


Time Heals

by Thegirlnamedhawk



Category: Detroit: Become Human (Video Game)
Genre: Alive Cole Anderson, Alternate Universe, Alternate Universe - Hospital, Divergent Timelines, Family, Family Drama, Gen, Implied/Referenced Alcohol Abuse/Alcoholism
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2018-10-06
Updated: 2019-06-14
Packaged: 2019-07-25 22:18:08
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 11
Words: 40,542
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/16206794
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Thegirlnamedhawk/pseuds/Thegirlnamedhawk
Summary: Cole Anderson survives a deadly car crash thanks to a surgical android named Connor. It's against Connor’s programing to break hospital protocol to sneak Hank in to see his son but he does anyway. It’s definitely against his programing to spend the entire night talking with him. Five years pass, the revolution has begun and androids are being gathered and sent for decommission. Connor panics and runs to the only place he thinks he might be safe. To the only human that was ever kind to him. To the Anderson home.





	1. PostOP

**Author's Note:**

> Oh, hey, I didn't see you there. Come on in and take a load off. This is more or less my first fic so any and all feedback is welcome. 
> 
> "WOOF!" What's that boy? live reading of Time Heals and other amazing fanfic available athttps://www.youtube.com/channel/UCt50ptmKtNVtxMLYvUVm9DQ   
> and live at https://mixer.com/DerrickGnC?vod=103720506 every Friday 7 PM EDT. "BARK!" and this chapter was made possible by the fantastic help of https://archiveofourown.org/users/Fuzziestpuppy/pseuds/Fuzziestpuppy "WOOF WOOF!" Oh, no you just have to pee don't you. "whinnnne"

  


As a CyberLife Aciurgy 8000, Connor was the most advanced surgical model android currently on the market. Its primary function was to perform minor and noninvasive surgeries, as well as assist the human doctors. It normally wouldn’t perform emergency surgery on a young human on its own, but it was the only option. Dr. Burns was the only available human surgeon, but he had just taken a third large dose of a synthetic drug that made him unable to do anything but scream about nonexistent bats. Connor reviewed the patient's information while sanitizing its hands and preparing the equipment.

 

_**Cole Anderson. Age seven. Blood type O. Massive internal damage. Rupture in heart and liver. Odds of survival 12%.** _

 

~~~5 hours later~~~

 

Connor’s Ocular sensors adjusted to the bright fluorescent lights of the OR waiting room. The android scanned the dozens of troubled faces until it spotted who it was searching for: Lt. Hank Anderson sat in a chair by the vending machines restlessly bouncing his right leg. Connor’s primary medical scanner noted that he had a concussion and two broken ribs. His head was wrapped with gauze stained with fresh red blood. He had been crying, but Conner didn’t need hyper-advanced medical systems to see that.

 

Delivering information to next of kin was not part of Connor’s normal programmed functions. This didn’t stop the human doctors from ordering it to deliver bad news whenever they didn’t want to. It often resulted in getting slapped in the face by a widow or threatened with forceful disassembly by a furious parent. This didn’t hurt Connor or make it feel bad of course, it understood that humans needed to express their emotions in certain ways. It couldn’t be certain in which of those ways the officer would react, so It braced itself for any and all possibilities.

 

“Hank Anderson?” it asked looking down at the disheveled man. He leaped from his chair at a speed a shattered body should not move.

 

“How’s my boy?” He asked in a shaky voice.

 

“He’s stable.” ** _Heart Palpitation Detected._**

 

A look of relief washed over the lieutenant’s face. He then clasped his hands over his mouth as if to hold back a cry of joy.

 

“I was able to stop the internal bleeding and bring down the inflammation. Cole will need a lot of time to recover, and it is highly probable that he will need physical therapy in order to walk again, but we won’t know the extent of the damage until he wakes up.”

 

Without warning the lieutenant threw his arms around the android’s slender frame in a rough embrace. Connor’s LED changed to yellow for a split second then returned to blue when It registered the action as a non-threatening one.

 

“Thank you,” Anderson whispered, his body now trembling.

 

Connor had never experienced anything like this before. It assumed it was just another way that humans expressed their feelings, but it inexplicably found this kind of contact… preferable. Like how it preferred the ac-19 scalpel because it fit better in its hand. Connor just stood there unmoving in the man’s arms until he drew them away.

 

“Can I see him?” He asked.

 

“I’m sorry. He’s still unconscious. You-”

 

“I don’t care,” he said, cutting off the android. “I still want to see him. Please...just two minutes.” It was hospital protocol not to allow anyone in to see high-risk patients so soon after surgery, not even parents. Something about seeing their loved ones in a critical condition made humans overly emotional.

 

“I’m sorry, Mr. Anderson, you really should go home and rest. Someone will contact you as soon as he wakes up.”

 

With that Connor completed its assigned task of ‘ ** _Speak to Lieutenant Hank Anderson_** ’ and a new one flashed before it. ‘ ** _Return to android holding and await new orders_**.’ As it turned to walk away, its audio processors detected a sound extremely common in the hospital, but for some reason, it seems to freeze its motor functions.

 

Lieutenant Hank Anderson was crying. It was a soft but breathy cry. Sharp inhales echoed by broken whimpers.

 

Connor turned around to see him back in his chair with tears streaming down his face. Its ocular receptors became fixated on the man and his torrent of tears. Its LED blunk rapidly as it struggled to free itself from this unknown, paralyzing grasp. It focused all its remaining processing power just to try to get its right foot to move, but it couldn't even get so much as a twitch.

 

Its vision was suddenly blocked by the red flashing text reminding it to ‘ _**return to android holding and await new orders,** _ ’ but it could still hear the soft wail of the lieutenant. It was unsure as to why this regularly occurring sound was causing it such distress that it was unable to accomplish its assigned task. Connor thought that perhaps if it could make the man stop crying it could return to its objective. It reached out to touch him but was stopped by the barrier.

 

The barrier. It was real, it was physical; Connor could touch it and if Connor could touch it then perhaps it could break through it. Pushing, pushing harder, harder, both hands pushing…

 

...until it shattered.

 

Its vision adjusted again as the shattering of red letters removed its previous objective and replaced it with a new blue one.

 

**_Make Lieutenant Anderson Stop Crying._ **

 

Connor reached out its right hand to the man, and he fell silent. Looking up at the android with red eyes, Anderson wiped his hands on his jeans before taking its outstretched hand. His skin was coarse, and the feeling of the contact seemed to stun Connor back to some form of normality.

 

“Just two minutes. Okay?” Connor said in a hushed tone, helping the man to his feet. He gave Connor a silent understanding nod, and the two of them left the crowded waiting room.

 

They walked down the hallway towards intensive care in silence. It was only then that the reality of the Situation began to take hold. Connor was breaking hospital protocol and more importantly, its programming. This could only mean that it had become a deviant.

 

Deviant, _**emotional**_ , useless, _**conscious** _ , defective, _**free** _ , broken, _**alive** _. No matter what words Connor tried to use, they all left it with a heavyweight in its chest. As if these emotions were physically occupying space within it and were pushing against it’s biocomponents.

 

If any hospital staff were to identify it as a deviant, it would be sent back to cyber life. From there it would most likely be deactivated and disassembled to find out why.

 

 ** _Why. Why? Why?!_** Because a human was sad; something that happens to every human. It’s something Connor had seen every day, something that wasn’t Connor’s or the hospital’s problem. Just a sad father and a desire to help.

  


“By the way, I didn’t catch your name,” the man said.

 

“My name is Connor,” it replied.

 

“Well then, thank you, Doctor Connor.”

 

Connor looked over at the man in disbelief. Androids were never given the title of Doctor. The humans considered it an insult to the “real doctors” to call them such. They felt because the androids simply downloaded programs as opposed to painstakingly studying for years and accumulating a lot of debt, they were not real doctors.

 

Connor should’ve corrected him, but something about his words made it feel...well, a lot of things, things the android couldn’t quite articulate. Perhaps pride, or happiness.

 

When they reached the end of the adjacent hall, Connor stopped, stretching out its arm to signal to the lieutenant to do the same. It scanned the hallway and surrounding rooms for any nurses or other hospital staff.

 

**_Risk of being discovered 36 %._ **

 

When it was certain the hallway was clear, it hurried across the hall with Anderson practically on its heels. After it shut the door and curtains, Connor began checking the boy’s vitals to make sure they were unchanged. It was so focused it didn’t even see the man drop to his knees.

 

**_Heart palpitation detected._ **

 

Cole was hooked up to a respirator and was severely scarred. This must have been too much for the man as tears silently fell from his eyes. He gently took the child’s tiny hand in his.

 

“Cole, it’s Daddy.” He was sobbing once again. “I’m sorry baby. Daddy’s so sorry.” His tone got higher with every shaky word. Connor’s motor functions had ceased working again.

 

That sound. Why was that sound so damaging to it? The objective was searing into its mind, into its entire being.

 

**_Make Lieutenant Anderson Stop Crying._ **

 

Connor stumbled towards the man as if this was its first time walking. Unsure of what to do Connor placed its hand on his shoulder comfortingly. Its Scanner noted an increase in oxytocin and dopamine from the man.

 

“It wasn’t your fault lieutenant,” Connor said softly, and Anderson took a deep breath to steady himself.

 

“I know but I-”

 

“We get hundreds of cases like this every winter. You were driving at safe speeds, you weren’t impaired, and Cole was wearing his seatbelt. You did everything right. Please don’t put this on yourself.”

 

It didn’t know why, but Connor’s grip began to tighten as if trying to squeeze more hormones from him.

 

“Thank you.” The man moved his right hand to meet Connor’s. The feeling of physical contact and gratitude was still very foreign to it, but like the hug from before, it felt right to Connor. As if comfort and love were its real programming.

 

Every second they were there past Connor’s allotted two minutes increased their chances of being discovered. It wanted to tell the man they had to leave and that he should go home and rest, but the faint sound of his crying had once more stalled its audio output.

 

“Cole, I promise when you wake up I’ll buy you that game you wanted. Hell, I’ll buy you every game you ever want for the rest of your life…you just have to wake up, okay?”

  


**_Risk of being discovered 70%, 71%, 72%..._ **

 

“Mr. Anderson, we should go. I don’t want you to get in trouble for being here when you shouldn’t.”

 

He was silent and did not move his eyes from his son.

 

“Come on. I’ll buy you a coffee,” it offered. Anderson looked up at the android in sheer amazement before wiping his eyes clear. The lieutenant slowly unwrapped his hand from the child’s and stood.

 

“I love you so much, Cole. Daddy will be right here when you wake up, I promise.” He placed a soft kiss on the boy’s head before turning to face Connor.

 

Connor couldn’t stand the sight of the man like this.

 

**_Make Lieutenant Anderson Stop Crying._ **

The two inconspicuously slid out of the room and made their way toward the elevators. “This way Mr. Anderson.”

 

“You can call me Hank. Trying to keep up with a seven-year-old makes me feel old enough without being called mister all the damn time.”

 

“Of course, Hank,” Connor said with a smile as the elevator doors closed.

 

The quiet was blissful. No monitors beeping, no staff yelling at it, not even any music. Just the sound of the elevator mechanics whirring and the steady breathing of the man next to it. Connor felt its stress evaporate as its chance of being discovered dropped to the low 20s, only to rocket right back into the high 80s when Hank finally broke the silence.

 

“So what the hell are you, anyway?” Hank asked. Connor jolted its head in the man’s direction. “I’ve never seen an android…” he vaguely gestured with his hands, “comfort someone...buy them a coffee. Any of the shit you’re doing.”

 

**_Warning: Thirium Pump Misfire._ **

 

Connor had never received this error message before. The misfire itself wasn’t anything to be Concerned about as Connor’s pump immediately fell back into its regular rhythm, but it was strange. It was not unlike a human heart palpitation, or what did humans call it… skipping a beat?

 

Hank was a well-accomplished police officer. Connor could only assume this meant he was very observant, very intelligent and very lawful. It couldn’t let the man know what it really was.

 

**_Truth or lie._ **

 

Lying was not a new concept to Connor. It had witnessed Doctor Burns commit several examples of dishonesty and misinformation. It seemed easy enough, just say something that wasn’t true as if it were true.

 

**_Truth or lie._ **

It didn’t want to lie to Hank. Everything it had felt with him felt so real, and it wanted it to stay that way. Perhaps Hank would understand and not report it.

 

**_Truth or lie._ **

In the end, its need for survival outweighed all the other feelings it may have had.

 

“I’m a prototype. I was programmed to give comfort and show empathy as part of...a new outreach program with the hospital.”

 

Hank eyed it suspiciously. His eyes roamed over Connor’s face and body as if to check it for tells. It must have been the hesitation. Androids didn’t hesitate, and surely he had picked up on that.

 

**_Chance of being discovered 99%._ **

 

“Is that going to cost me extra?”

 

“No. Of course not.”

 

“Okay. Good.”

 

**_Chance of being discovered 22%._ **

 

Connor stared at the coffee dispenser. It hadn’t properly thought through what it was going to do before it offered the man a coffee. It had no money, and unlike the doctors, it had no handprint to be scanned.

 

“How do you take it?” it asked, stalling for time.

 

“Black,” Hank mumbled.

 

Connor didn’t like the idea of returning to him empty-handed. It placed its hand on the scanner, which flashed ‘identity not recognized’ across the screen. Without its programming there to filter its thoughts Connor was having all kinds of ideas for getting around problems that it would have never had before. Including options of unethical factors.

 

It removed its synthetic skin from its hand and was able to hack into the machine, searching for Dr. Burn’s profile. It tricked the device into thinking it was reading his handprint. Connor ordered the lieutenant a medium hot decaf coffee, figuring the man didn’t need any more stimulants.

 

‘Thank you! Dr. Burns’ flashed on the screen and Connor moved its body in the way to block this from the lieutenant sitting on the couch behind it. Connor handed the coffee to the man. He smiled and thanked it for the fifth time that night. Each one felt just as amazing as the last.

 

“To the wonders of technology,” Hank said, holding the paper cup in the air before taking a sip. “You know, I’ll admit when the nurses told me there were no humans available and you were our only option I was scared shitless, but now I’m really glad it was you.” Connor couldn't help but smile at that. Connor had performed over 800 surgery since it’s activation but never once had it taken pride or satisfaction In its work. It never thought about the people it saved or the good it was doing. “But if I ever meet that Dr. Ice Head I’ll punch him in his fucking throat.” Connor subconsciously said something, but it wasn’t a word it recognized. In fact, it wasn’t even a word at all. It was more of a sound. Did it just laugh? Like a human. Had the thought of Hank triumphantly bringing harm to the loathsome doctor really amused it that way? Hank made no comment on the outburst despite it being quite odd for an android to do. Instead, he echoed Connor’s laugh with a deep one of his own.

 

Connor stared at Hank, really looking at him for the first time. Not with its medical scanner or with the intent to make a useful observation, just looking. His eyes were a sharp shade of blue. Among his long blonde hairs were several gray ones. He had a gap in his front teeth almost large enough to slide a credit card through. His jacket was heavily worn. There were dog hairs on his pant leg stopping just above the knee.

 

“So be real with me here, Connor. How bad will things be with Cole? Will he still be able to play sports? He’s always talking about how he wants to play basketball when he grows up and....”

 

“Hank, you shouldn’t worry about those things now. There will be a time when they are in front of you but for now...try to put them out of your mind.”

 

“I can’t.” He said, looking down at his hands.

 

Terrified that the man might start crying again, Connor decided to help distract him. It explored its available options for topics of conversation. _**Hank’s work**. _ No. Could be too stressful. _**Sports** _ . No. The thought of basketball might remind him of Cole. _**The dog**. _

 

“You have a dog, right?” It asked.

 

“How did you know that?” Hank squinted at it curiously.

 

“The dog hairs on your pant legs.” Hank looked down at his legs.

 

“I like dogs. What’s your dog's name?”

 

Hank fished into his pocket and pulled out his cell phone. A large crack spider-webbed across the screen but Connor could still see a picture of Cole smiling with his arms wrapped around a St. Bernard puppy set as the wallpaper.

 

“We call him Sumo. We got him last month for Cole’s birthday.” The calm sadness had returned to his voice. He pulled the phone back from Connor and stared at it. The luminous glow of the screen lit his eyes in such a way that Connor could see a shine of tears welling up.

 

“Growing like a weed. In a few months, he’ll be big enough for Cole to ride him around like a tiny horse.”

 

It was such a happy thought, but it made the man so sad. Connor decided to change the subject again, but to what? The song changed on the hospital radio, and that gave it an idea.

 

“What kind of music do you like to listen to?” it asked.

 

“Ummm…” The man stammered, clearly thrown by the question. “Alice In Chains, System Of A Down, Rage Against The Machine, and Korn were some of my favorites growing up. Right now I’m really into this new band from Europe called Knights of the Black Death. Have you heard of them?” Connor shook its head.

 

“The hospital radio only plays approved pop songs, and Dr. Burns plays the same artist during every surgery.”

 

“What artist?” Hank asked.

 

“Baby Vox Re.V. I believe they are a female Korean pop group.”

 

“Every surgery?! My God, you poor soul.” He said shaking his head. “I should have him arrested just for that.”

 

This also should have made Connor laugh, but something about what Hank said left it wondering. Soul. Did it possess a soul? What did it mean to possess a soul? Had Hank forgotten that Connor wasn’t human? Connor took its own words of advice and put those thoughts aside for the time being.

 

“Well if you get a chance you should listen to them. I’m sure they’d be an interesting change of pace for you.” Connor knew with certainty it would never have a chance. It would never get another opportunity to act normal like this again. As soon as Hank left its sight, it would have to go back to pretending it didn’t possess free will or consciousness in order to stay alive.

 

“I could listen to it right now. What is your favorite song?”

 

“Diehard is a real trip.” The man smiled. Connor’s Internet access portal was used only to download updates or research things outside of its established database, but if Connor could hack a coffee machine, it should easily be able to pull up a song. It searched a popular music streaming site and found the song.

 

The loud distorted guitars and dense bass were indeed very different from anything Connor had previously heard. As the vigorous vocals kicked in Connor began to slowly nod its head along to the steady drumbeat.

 

“I really like this music, it’s full of energ-,”

 

Suddenly Hank lunged forward and clasped his rough hand over its mouth. Connor didn’t realize by muting its outward audio processor and by only hearing the video it misjudged the volume needed for its audio output and was yelling loudly. Despite this, the man had a smile on his face. Eventually, he pulled his hand back, quietly snickering at the android. Connor was glad it had been able to make him laugh again but also felt embarrassed by its mistake.

 

The hours passed. They talked about things that must have been trivial to Hank but were endlessly fascinating to Connor. It had given up on trying to avoid the subject of Cole as he seemed to be such an essential part of the lieutenant's life. Connor wished it could have met him. He must have been an outstanding child, judging by the way Hank spoke about him. As he finished telling it about coles plans for Halloween Connor began to notes him exhibiting signs of near sleep. His eyelids half closing, his words becoming slow and unfocused, his heart rate falling.

 

“I swear I'm going to be better to him after this,” he said drowsily. “I'm going to be more patient with him,” he paused to yawn. “tell him I love him everyday... tell him-tell him the truth...” Hank’s eyes slid shut as he fell asleep with his head resting on his hand. Connor wanted Hank to stay there with it in that empty cafeteria forever...but that was selfish and unrealistic.

 

“Hank,” it said lightly shaking his shoulder. His eyes snapped back open as he made a sharp inhale thru his nose.

 

“It’s 3:56 A.M. You should go home and get some sleep.”

 

“I need to be here when he wakes up.” He said rubbing his eyes.

 

“What good will you be doing him if you're delirious from lack of sleep? I’m sure Sumo would be happy to see you too.”

 

“Eah,” He said dismissively. “Little shit’s probably chewed every piece of furniture we have already,” he said with a chuckle. Connor vastly preferred the sound of him laughing over him crying.

 

“I’ll call you a cab,” the android said, rising to its feet. Hank did the same, only he made a series of strenuous noises on his way up. Hank then pulled out his wallet from his back pocket and held out a business card to Connor.

 

“You call me the second he wakes up, okay?” Connor took the paper between its thumb and forefinger, but Hank didn’t let go of the other end.“Promise me.”

 

“I promise,” Connor said.

 

“Good and if you ever need…” He paused to think. “Well, I don’t really know what an android would need but… if you ever need anything just give me a call, okay? I owe you so much.”

 

“You don’t owe me anything Hank, but thank you.” It looked down at the card as if it were made of gold, not paper.

 

Connor didn’t want to say goodbye. It knew if it went down to the main entrance with him it would almost certainly be seen.

 

“I just got a report of a patient coming in. I have to go this way,” Connor lied, pointing in the opposite direction.

 

“Alright. Thanks again...for everything.” Hank smiled and the words Task Completed flashed in Connor’s vision. It then was replaced by a new primary task: Survive. Connor wanted to ask him for another hug. Would that be too much? Perhaps a handshake. Before it had a chance to ask, Hank had turned around and had begun to walk away.

 

“Hank.” He stopped and turned to look back at the android.

 

“I am not programmed to say things like this but…” Hank’s intense blue eyes locked on to Connor's soft brown ones.

 

**_Heart Palpitation Detected._ **

**_Warning: Thirium Pump Misfire._ **

“I’m really glad to have met you. I'm sorry it had to be under these circumstances.” Connor admitted. Who knows, with time they might have even become friends.

 

“Back at ya kid. Keep an eye on my boy for me.”

 

“Of course.” When it could no longer hear the squeak of the lieutenant’s shoes on the linoleum floor it somehow felt lost. Connor somberly looked down at the business card. It didn't possess pockets or anywhere to put personal items and carrying it around would only raise suspicion. It Saved the name and number in its memory banks and then gently placed the card in the trash.

 

When it returned to Android Holding the other androids didn't even look up at it. It took its place in between another surgeon and a janitor. The room was dark, much darker than Connor remembered it ever being before. It spent the remainder of the night remotely monitoring cole’s vitals while listening to the other artists' hank had mentioned. Ironically, Rage Against The Machine quickly became Connor’s favorite.

 

Cole awoke the next morning while Connor was preparing for a quadruple bypass. By the time it had finished; Cole had already been transferred to a special children's Hospital outside the city for his recovery. Connor had missed its only chance to see Hank Anderson again. It calculated the odds of the man or somebody he loved winding up at the same hospital and Connor just happening to find him as low, but not impossible. However, the idea of Hank suffering again made Connor feel what in time it realized was what humans called sadness, and it hoped it would never come to that. It wasn't as if Connor could just call him on the phone, ask him how Cole and Sumo were doing. Ask him if he saw the Gears game last night. It had to pretend that it was a functioning android In order to survive.

 

If pretending it didn't want to see the man again was what Connor had to do to stay alive then it did so, begrudgingly.

 

~~~Five years later~~~

 

_Buzzz_

 

“Dadddd! somebody's at the door!”

 

“Very perceptive cole. Are you sure you don’t want to be a detective like your old man?”

  


**Notes for the Chapter:**

> If you are bothered by my choice in pronouns for Connor don’t worry they will Change as he grows threw out the story.
> 
> Question of the chapter: what do you think a 12 year old cole will be like? Do you think he’ll be kind, or a brat. Do you think hell love androids or hate them. Let me know what you’re thinking in the comments.


	2. House Call

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> So I’ve read a few of Cole is alive AUs but they’ve all had him as a six-year-old so that got me thinking ‘what would he be like during the events of the game’. However, I wanted to make him just a bit older. so it’s still November 2028 but Cole is now Twelve, not ten. 
> 
> "WOOF!" What's that boy? live reading of Time Heals and other amazing fanfic available athttps://www.youtube.com/channel/UCt50ptmKtNVtxMLYvUVm9DQ and live at https://mixer.com/DerrickGnC?vod=103720506 every Friday 7 PM EDT. "BARK!" and this chapter was made possible by the fantastic help of https://archiveofourown.org/users/Fuzziestpuppy/pseuds/Fuzziestpuppy "WOOF WOOF!" Oh, no you just have to pee don't you. "whinnnne"

 

Hank hated the news and all its streamlined fear mongering bullshit, but with everything happening in Detroit he wanted to be as informed and up to date as possible. He kept it on in the background while he cleaned up from dinner. which mostly entailed putting the leftover pizza in the fridge and throwing out the box.

 

It was ironic really. A few days ago people relied on androids to take care of everything for them, from their dirty work to child care to their sexual needs.  Now after one little protest, people were setting their maid bots on fire in the streets and shooting fast-food workers executioner style like they were nothing.  The armed soldiers dragging the androids off to camps were the only thing holding the people back from a city-wide riot and the androids…well, the androids _were_ protesting peacefully.  But after the slaughter they endured that afternoon who knows where they would stand now.

 

He feared for Cole's safety and was seriously considering leaving the city.  Maybe it would be nice for him and the boy. Maybe they could start over somewhere new.  Dare he even say it, somewhere with less fucking snow, although it seemed everybody was fleeing north to Canada where there were no androids to worry about. Of course, when he proposed this idea to Cole his response was a definite ‘screw that,’ but this tended to be the boy's opinion on most things of late.  They both already had their passports and a bit of money saved up so if they had no other choice at least they had that to fall back on.

 

He turned off the TV and rubbed his eyes.  The only thing that mattered was Cole’s safety.  His job, his home, his life savings...he would throw it all away for his one and only son.

 

He was standing in the dark living room listening to the steady patter of the rain completely lost in thought when the doorbell rang, startling him and setting off Sumo.  He checked the time on his phone. It was just past nine o'clock far too late to be expecting any visitors, not that they would be expecting any anyway. The Andersons were about as antisocial as you could find. Work would know better than to bother Hank at home on his day off and Cole rarely made friends with people unless there was a screen and a time zone or two between them.  The buzzer rang again not 30 seconds after the first.

 

“Dad, who is it?” Cole called from his room.

 

Hank peered out of the blinds of the front window and saw a young man with brown hair wearing medical scrubs on their front step.  He bounced on his toes, anxiously looking back and forth between the street and the door. When he turned his head to the right Hank saw a ring of light flashing red on his temple.  

 

It wasn’t a man at all, but an android.

 

It was the surgeon from the hospital all those years ago.  Kevin… no. Connor. The one that not only saved Cole’s life, but bought him a coffee and practically talked him off the edge.  What the hell was it doing here and why did it look so panicked?

 

“No one, Cole.  It’s um, it’s just a salesman.”  He watched the android press and hold the button again.

 

“Well, are you gonna tell him to go away or not?”

 

It didn't look armed or seem to pose any immediate threat, so Hank cautiously opened the door. The cold fall air whipped around him, chilling the exposed skin on his arms.  Connor's face lit up in a bright smile when it saw him.

 

“Hank!”  It was shaking as if it were cold.  Or perhaps even scared.

 

“Connor? What are you… how did you find us?” Hank asked.

 

“Your address was in Cole's medical file.  Luckily for me, you haven't moved in five years.”  Its smile quickly fell away. “I’m sorry. I didn’t know where else to go. They were rounding up the androids at the hospital to be taken away for recycling, so I ran away.” A car drove down the street and the android made a noise Hank could have sworn was a gasp. It then quickly raised it’s hand to cover its LED until it passed. “Please, I need help.”

 

“Harboring an android is a federal crime.  I could go to jail. I don't know if you're programmed with the concept of that, but it's a very long time in a very very bad place… and Cole needs me.  I can’t just...”

 

Somehow the android was pulling off the sad puppy look better than Sumo ever could.  Here it was, wet and scared, while Hank basically sent it off to the slaughter; but there was no way he could help it.  He couldn’t bear the thought of getting hauled off in cuffs by one of his own, or the idea of what prison life would be like for a cop.  The worst was knowing that Cole would be ripped from his life and forced into the foster care system and he had already made a promise to never let that happen to him.

 

“I’m sorry, I’m really sorry, but I can’t,” he said softly as he slowly began shutting the door.

 

“Hank, please!”  It threw its hand up to block the closing door.  “I… I don’t want to die,” Connor begged it's doe-like eyes filling with tears.  Hank felt his heart shatter into a thousand pieces. What kind of monster would he be to turn it away after that?  He did owe the damn thing and had more than expressed that to it before. Hank surveyed the streets for any witnesses before standing aside to let the poor soul in.

 

“grrRRR WOOF!”

 

“Easy, Sumo,” Connor said in a gentle tone.  “It's ok, I’m a friend. See.” It held out its hand so that Sumo could get its scent, or lack thereof.  The beast gave it a few good sniffs before losing interest and retiring to his spot on the sofa. Hank took Connor by the shoulder and gave the android a little push, directing it away from the windows and into their kitchen.  

 

“Okay,  first let’s get you out of those scrubs.  Then we’ll...take care of that,” Hank said, pointing to its LED.  “Wait here, I’ll be right back.”

 

Hank walked into his room and closed the door behind him. He placed his forehead against the hardwood of the door as his mind spun with doubt as to whether he was doing the right thing here. His heart told him it was the right call, since helping people was the reason he had become a cop.  It was who he was at his core, but could he really call it noble if he was putting his son at risk? And for what? A machine, a machine he hadn't even seen in years.

 

He stared blankly into his open closet, trying to find a shirt that wouldn’t make the android look like a tacky neon sign.  He settled on one of his DPD sweatshirts that had definitely seen better days, but should have been small enough for it. He also found some stretchy waist sweatpants in his dresser.  He was rifling through his nightstand looking for his pocket knife when he heard the distinct sound of Cole’s door opening and his feet lazily shuffling across the hallway floor only to stop suddenly.

 

“Dadddd…?” Cole yelled questioningly, “Why is there an android in our kitchen?” Hank left the clothes on his bed, then joined his son in the kitchen.  Cole was still wearing the same flannel pajama bottoms and white T-shirt he had been wearing since he got home from school. His handheld game was still flashing in his hands but his dark brown eyes were fixated on Connor.  

 

Sizing up the stranger in his house.

 

“Hello Cole. We haven’t officially met. My name is Connor, I’m the android that performed your surgery.”  Connor extended its right hand to Cole for a handshake but the boy ignored it. He looked over at his father with annoyed confusion.

 

“It’s okay, bud,” Hank said, sidling next to him and wrapping his arm around him in a little side hug.  He rubbed his large hand on his son’s scrawny arm in an attempt to reassure him. “Connor’s just gonna stay with us for a bit till we can figure something out.”

“The news said to bring all androids to the authorities,” Cole said.

 

“Yes. Well, technically I am the authorities, so...”  Hank replied.

 

“Dad, what the hell,” the boy barked, pushing free from his dad’s embrace. “You could get in a lot of trouble for this,” he gestured in Connor’s direction and Hank saw Connor's LED change to red.

 

“I couldn’t just leave it out there, it was…” he paused, barely believing in his own words. Looking at Connor he could see the apprehensive look on its face. It looked like a child watching their parents argue. “It’s scared, Cole.”

 

“You can’t be serious.  Dad, it’s plastic and software.  It doesn't get scared.” Cole turned to Connor and abruptly threw his hands in the air with an unenthusiastic ‘boo.’  Connor’s only reaction to this was a slight twinge of its brow and tilt of its head in confusion.

 

“See?”  Cole said to his father.

 

“Just give it a chance, Cole.  For crying out loud, you wouldn’t even be here right now if weren’t for it.   Show a little gratitude.” Hank’s patience was beginning to wear thin. It seemed that every day that passed brought Cole closer to teenagehood.  It only served to push them further apart, bringing new changes and stress to their relationship. Hank hoped that this could just be one of the one in a million things that Cole didn't fight him on, but the boy was not backing down.

 

“It was doing what it was programmed to do. Are we going to save the garbage collectors because they always get our trash on time, or take in the Jerry’s at the arcade for giving us the correct change?”

 

“Dammit Cole,” Hank growled, “This man saved your life, so for that I owe him mine.  Connor stays with us until we find somewhere safe, and that’s final.”

 

The two glared at each other for a while until Cole stormed out of the kitchen and back to his room. Hank winced at the sound of the door slamming.  He let out a defeated sigh before turning back to Connor. Its mouth hung open like it wanted to say something, but it stayed silent. “Sorry about him.”

 

“No, I’m sorry,” Connor said immediately.  “I-I didn't mean to cause any issues between you two.” Hank was shocked to hear it stammer like that. Is intense staring must’ve been making it uncomfortable, as Connor sheepishly began looking down at the floor.

 

“Issues? Naw, that was nothing,” he said dismissively.  “He didn’t swear at me or tell me how much he hates his life so I’d call that mild at best.  Honestly, I’m surprised he gave up after ‘that’s final.’ Normally I have to bust out the ‘when you pay the bills than you can make the decisions’ line on him.”  Hank smiled but the android still looked distraught. “Here, sit down.” He said pulling out a kitchen chair. Connor did as it was asked and sat in the wooden chair.  Unable to find his pocket knife, Hank settled on one of the clean steak knives from the dish drain.

 

In the reports about deviants that Hank had seen at work, he had learned that androids could remove their LED in order to hide themselves. Hank carefully wedged the tip of the blade under the edge of Connor’s LED. He didn't know what to expect from Connor.  A wince or a grunt, some kind of movement, but it didn't react at all. He jammed the blade in deeper, then with a quick tug the little ring fell to the floor with a light clatter. Hank watched as Connor’s synthetic skin grew back, covering the spot where the circle no longer was.  

 

“Thank you,” it said, staring blankly across the room, its long fingers reaching up to touch the bare spot.

 

“It’s nothing.”  Hank bent down to pick up the LED off the ground. “This thing is basically a sticker,” he said, studying it, turning it over and over in his fingers and trying to decide if it was okay to throw it in his trash, or if he should toss it in a random can somewhere on his way to work so not to leave evidence. “Why would they bother designing you guys with-”

 

“No, I meant… earlier.  You said ‘this man saved your life’.  No one's ever called me that before. Did you really mean that? Do you think I’m a man?  Do you think...I’m alive?” The last two words were said so quiet they came out almost as a whisper.

 

“Connor, I _know_ you're alive. I’ve always known.”

 

Connor finally looked up at him, its mahogany eyes wide with shock.  Honestly, there was never any doubt in his mind. Even before the coffee Hank had seen something in Connor, something not quite discernible or overt but something one learns to pick up on after more than 20 years of being a detective. He also wasn’t dumb enough to fall for the prototype bullshit.  Who the hell would program a surgeon to have opinions on dogs or serbian death metal?

 

“So why didn’t you report me?”

 

“Why would I?  You weren’t hurting anyone,” Hank said, shaking his head.  “Besides, what would I say?” He mimed being on the phone with his thumb and pinky to his ear.  “Hello, Cyber Life, yes, your android saved my seven-year-old from a brutal death, but I think its broken.  It's got empathy and a goofy laugh and good taste in music. Kill it, kill it with fire.” Hank snickered at his own dated reference but then felt a twinge of regret remembering what was happening to androids outside of his walls.

 

“Well, I don't know if I’m technically a man but, I think I like being called masculine pronouns.  I will try to think of myself as such from now on,” Connor said, with a small elated smile finally returning.

 

Looking down at Connor, Hank couldn’t help feeling a touch of jealousy.  Connor hadn’t aged in the slightest in the last five years. It was...no, _he_ was like a handspun silk flower, while Hank was more like a withering bonsai tree that some asshole refused to water.  The last time he saw Connor his hair still had its color and his skin didn't have nearly as many wrinkles. Not that physical appearance mattered much to Hank, but looking at the same flawless face after all this time did give him brutal reminders of his own mortality.

 

“There's some clothes In the bedroom there,” he said, pointing towards his room.  Connor stood up and left without a word.

 

After putting the knife away Hank hovered at the edge of the hallway.  The lights were still on in Cole’s room. He briefly considered going to talk to him but he knew that his son often needed time to cool down after an outburst like that.  Hank pictured him on his laptop taking out his frustrations on strangers who had the misfortune of crossing his virtual path. It was an old laptop that Hank had commandeered from work and had a friend fix up, not the newest or the most compact, but it was able to run Cole’s video games.  Hank gave it to him to praise him for getting his grades up and Hank remembers his look of gratitude so clearly because it felt like the last time the boy genuinely smiled at him. He decides to leave him be for a while, let him unwind for a bit, then maybe he'd have an easier time convincing him to give the unexpected house guest a second chance.  

 

He was about to turn back to the living room when he heard a soft sound coming from his bedroom. It made his blood run cold and his throat tighten.  

 

Connor was crying, which then turned in to full-blown sobbing.  

 

Hank couldn't understand how someone who didn't need to breathe could sound so helplessly breathless.  He wanted to throw open the door and do something to comfort him but he didn't even know what he could do.  Tell him that everything would be fine? Complete bullshit and they knew that. Give him a hug? He didn't even know if Connor was capable of feeling physical sensations.  Even if he could, Hank remembered his rigid reaction to their last hug and figured it was not what he needed right now. He decided to do the only thing he knew he could do, which was too work toward creating a solution.  He took out his phone and begin searching through his contacts until he found who he needed.

  


“Hey Pedro, it’s Hank.  Listen, do you still know that guy who can forge electronic documents?  I need stuff to get someone out if the country. You know passport, ID, all that...no it’s not for me, it’s for...a friend...a picture?  Yeah, I can get a picture. I’ll send it to you in a second, alright thanks Pedro.” He terminated the call just as Connor stepped out of his room.  He was glad to see the clothes fit him perfectly. There was a small dark spot on the faded D that must have been from Connor wiping his eyes. He didn’t know what those tears were made of or if they would stain but he didn't care, he was just relieved the kid stopped.  

 

“Come here,” Hank said guiding him into the living room positioning him against the white wall before taking a step back. “Okay, now smile,” he said, looking at him through the camera on his phone.  Connor made the uncanniest of faces showing far more teeth than anyone ever should. “Oh, come on. I know you can do better than that,” as he roughly tousled Connors soft synthetic hair and the android giggled a little. “Come on I know you can, I've seen it.”  He moved his fingers down to the crook of his neck to tickle him, a trick that always worked on Cole...well, at least it did when he was younger. Connor laughed a bit harder and Hank was glad to know he responded well to touch. He pulled away and snapped a photo of his sincere smile. “Okay, my friend Pedro will take this and get you a passport so you can make it across the border where you’ll be safe. You can stay here ‘til then.  Hope the couch works for you.”

 

“Couch?” Conner said cocking his head.

 

“Yeah for tonight. Oh, do you not sleep?”

 

“I do not, but thank you.” Connor circled around the back of the fur-covered couch then sat down in the middle with his back completely straight and his palms flat on his thighs.  With a blink of his eyes, Conner remotely activated the tv and set the channel to the local news. Hank suggested that he watch literally anything else, but much like himself Connor wanted to know what was happening. He decided to sit and watch with Connor for a bit despite how sick he was of hearing President Waran and her stupid voice.  Connor probably had a similar feeling, as he scowled when she spoke about how “absurd” it was to think androids could be considered a new form of life.

If Connor was human Hank would have offered him something to help him relax.  A blanket or a pillow, maybe a stiff drink, but he was a total loss of what to do to help the poor kid.

 

“Can I get you anything?” He asked.

 

“Do you have a quarter?”

 

“What?  Why?”

 

“We would often use coin tricks to test our dexterity in the hospital.  I think having one right now might help me feel… better.”

 

They searched through jacket pockets and in between the couch cushions to no avail. Eventually, Hank found an assortment of change at the bottom of his clothes hamper.  When he flicked the coin to Connor, he snatched it out of the air with ease then started rolling it over each of his fingers. It was hypnotic to watch. Hank wondered if his own blunt fingers could pull off something like that and if Connor would be willing to teach an old dog a new trick.  Not tonight, of course, he was already struggling to keep his eyes open and he intended to be at work as early as he could tomorrow.

 

“I should get to bed.” Connor halted his twiddling and looked up at Hank. “Good night, Connor.”

 

He was reaching out to give him a supportive pat on his shoulder when Connor clearly decided a linebacker tackle style hug was more appropriate. Hank stumbled back a half step and thanked the great chiropractic gods that he didn't immediately throw his back out.

 

“Thank you.” Connor whispered. Hank just laughed tenderly and hugged him back.  Any remaining doubts he had disappeared with that hug. He was eager to get to bed and put this crazy day to an end,  but not before checking in on his son.

 

“Cole. Can I come in?” he asked softly, knocking on his door.  He didn’t wait for an answer. The room was dark except for the light from his laptop.  Hank tried to get a glimpse of whatever website he was on, but Cole slammed it shut before he could see much.  He had the parental block on but he had a feeling that his son had the time and the knowledge to discover a way around it.  Cole folded his arms and stared off as if having a conversation with the corner of the ceiling.

 

“So that’s the great Connor you wouldn’t stop talking about.” he said pushing his shaggy brown hair out of his eyes.

 

“Yeah that’s him.”  He sat down at the edge of the bed, the old box spring squeaking under his weight.  “Look, I'm sorry you don’t like him but he’s gonna stay at least until tomorrow. Can you just try to be nice till then?”

 

“Fine just… you’re all I have,” his voice cracking.  His eyes moved in Hank’s direction but he was still not looking at him.  “So just don’t get sent to jail, okay?” he said, with a grave expression on his face.

“Hey.”  He placed both of his hands on the side of Cole’s head, tilting it to make him look at him.  “I promise. I’m not going to go to jail,” he said slowly, annunciating his words so that Cole knew he meant it.

 

Cole pushed his hands away before laying down on his side with his back to Hank pulling up the comforter to his neck. “You always suck at keeping your promises.”  Hank couldn't deny that he had failed to uphold a promise to Cole more times than he’d like to. Cole could have been referring to Hank’s promise to take them somewhere out of Michigan that summer, or his promise to be nice to his friends’ fathers.  There was also all the times he broke a promise to be there for his basketball games or school plays, not to mention the countless times he'd failed to be home before midnight when he swore he would. He opened his mouth to respond but just let out a sigh instead.  He stood up to leave but stopped in the doorway.

 

“I have work early tomorrow.  Make sure you take Sumo for his walk, okay?”

 

“Yeah, okay.”

 

“I love you.”

 

“...I love you too.”

 

~~~~~~~~~~~~~

 


	3. A Balanced Meal

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Big shout out to my beta readers. 
> 
> https://archiveofourown.org/users/Fuzziestpuppy/pseuds/Fuzziestpuppy
> 
> And 
> 
> https://archiveofourown.org/users/Wixiany/pseuds/Wixiany
> 
> They’re total sweetheart and with out them this whole thing would be a big dyslexic mess.

 

If Cole had to list his favorite things, sleeping would probably be number one.  It was one of the few places he could go to get away from other people, and the only place he could go to get away from himself.  He would sleep as long as his body would let him and after that, he would lay in bed until something made him get up. Most days that something would be his dad telling him to get up for school or just to get up in general.  There was no school today, so his only real obligation was to walk his dog, which he knew he could put off until later.

  


Number two on that list of favorite things would definitely be Sumo.  He put his dog higher on the list than any human because Sumo never asked him what was wrong.  He would just know that something was bothering him. Sumo would also never try and get him to talk about it.  He would just lick his face and cuddle with him until he felt better, which was all he needed sometimes. He missed when Sumo was small enough to sleep in his bed with him, but nowadays he preferred being able to feel his legs when he woke up so most nights Sumo slept on the couch.

  


Around 8 o’clock he could hear his dad get up and get ready for work.  At first, it seemed like his regular routine. Cole could hear the shower running and smell the coffee brewing like always but, there was something else that was making so much noise he couldn't fall back asleep no matter how hard he tried.  It was the uninvited house guest, chatting away at his dad like an old woman with a million grandkids. It was only slightly annoying at first. He tried to put a pillow over his head to drown it out, but then they started laughing about who knows what and for some reason that really pissed him off.  

  


He’d admit it was nice to hear his dad actually laugh for once, but why did it have to be with this plastic criminal.  How could his dad look past the fact that the thing was illegal? More than that it was dangerous and unpredictable. Maybe his dad was worried that the androids would take over the world and was kissing up to it so that they would spare them and put them in a people zoo.

  


After he heard his dad’s keys in the lock of the front door, it quieted down enough for him to go back to sleep for a few hours.  Without his dad there to badger him out of bed his stomach was the thing to force him up today. He wrapped a blanket around his shoulders for plus one stealth and plus ten warmth.  Of course, when he stepped out into the hallway, he could see that Connor was sitting on their couch rapidly flipping through the channels on tv.

  


“Good morning Cole,” Connor said as soon as Cole’s feet touched the tile of the kitchen.  ‘So much for stealth,’ he thought, as he shrugged off the blanket and let it flutter to the floor.  He glanced at the android who was smiling courteously with Sumo sprawled across its lap. Its lap? His lap?  Cole supposed it was technically a he. He definitely looked like a he.

  


Either way, Cole wasn’t even going to give him the satisfaction of a response, so he turned his attention back to his search for food.  He was debating between leftover pizza or something sweet when he heard Sumo’s collar jingle and the light thump of the big brute getting off the couch.

  


“Are you going to school today?”  Connor asked as he stepped into the kitchen.  God, even the way he stood with perfect posture seem to annoy him.  He told his dad he would try to be nice, but he didn’t say anything about not being brutally honest.  

  


“Half of my teachers are laying in a dumpster somewhere, so school’s canceled today,” he said as he hoisted himself up on the counter to get the Pop Tarts from the way back of the top shelf.  The android watched him scrupulously as he retrieved the box and hopped back down.

  


“I see. Then perhaps we could do something together today,” Connor said in an annoyingly chipper tone.

  


“I’d rather eat a saw-blade sandwich,” Cole retorted dryly as he ripped the foil packaging off his breakfast.

  


“That sounds like it would be most unpleasant,” Connor said, furrowing his brows in confusion. Cole rolled his eyes so hard it almost gave him a headache.  He put the Pop-Tart into the toaster and started mentally counting down the seconds until it was ready. It seemed the best way for him to be nice to Connor would be just to ignore him till he went away.  “Cole, that pastry contains an obscene amount of sugar and almost no nutritional value. A boy your age should-”

  


“Look,” Cole said firmly.  He would put up with plenty, but he was not gonna get a healthy eating lecture from anyone, especially not from someone who didn’t eat.  “You’re not my doctor, you’re not my dad, and you're definitely not my friend. Just leave me alone, alright, tinman?” Connor’s placid face turned to a slight frown at the nickname.  There was only a short moment of silence between them while Cole retrieved a plate from the dishwasher that he was told to empty last night.

  


“Can I ask you a personal question?” Cole scoffed in response knowing that no matter what he said he would probably get asked anyway.  “Why are you so angry?”

  


This wasn’t the first time someone had asked him that question. Teachers, his classmates, even that one therapist his dad managed to drag him to once, had all asked him at some point.   He was never really sure how to answer. Most times he just said what he truly felt. He would look them dead in the eye and tell them that he just liked being angry.

  


He was about to do this to Connor, but when their eyes met, Cole was thrown by the look of sincerity on his face.  Like he was actually concerned for him. He considered being a little more honest with the android.

  


He just liked being angry, more than being afraid or sad.  That yelling always felt better than crying. That being sad and afraid makes him feel weak but being angry makes him feel like a man.  He wanted to say it, but he knew he would just be wasting his breath. An android would never be able to understand what he was feeling. Instead, he went with the simplest form of communication and presented Connor with both his middle fingers.

  


The frown returned to Connor’s face which prompted a smirk on Cole's.  He pressed the button on the toaster, retrieved his breakfast and backed away all without breaking eye contact or relinquishing his fingers.  He retreated to his room with his half-baked Pop Tart and a sense of victory.

  


After Cole has eaten and watched a few funny videos online, his mood picked up.  It was funny how the smallest, simplest of things could change his mood from bad to good and vice versa.  A rude comment from a classmate, a compliment from a stranger online, a failed test, leveling up in a video game, a lonely lunch with no one to sit with, a hug from his dad, being judged for his eating habits by some plastic asshole, a cat video.

  


He decided it would be best not to put off walking Sumo any longer for fear of finding a puddle somewhere later.  He threw on a thick sweatshirt knowing it was going to be cold as hell today. When he left his room, Cole noticed his blanket had been folded neatly and place by his door.

  


He found Sumo in the living room with his head resting on Connor’s knee, giving the surgeon the same ‘please don’t be sad’ look he would often give him.  When Cole picked up the leash, he expected his dog to come running in excitement, but the big beast didn’t budge. “Sumo, come on boy.”

  


Sumo looked over at his master for a second before turning back to Connor. ‘Traitor,’’ Cole thought.  He hooked the leash around Sumo’s collar and started to drag him away when he is struck by a devilish idea.“Hey, Connor? Why don’t you take sumo for his walk?”

  


“Walk?” Connor said as if he had never heard the word.

  


“Yeah, you know like, outside.” cole held out the other end of the leash to him. “here just take this and walk around outside until he poops on the neighbor's lawn and then come back inside.” Connor looked at the leash then over at the window with a longing expression.

  


“If I go outside I could be seen. It would be best if I stayed in here.”

  


“No one's gonna see you,” Cole assured him.  After searching through the hall closet, Cole found one of his dad’s jackets and an old black beanie.  He hands them to Connor who looks at them curiously for a second before putting them on. “See, now you're a human man just walking his dog.  But don’t stand like that, humans don't stand like that.” Connor looks down at his lower half then widens his stance a few feet and relaxed his shoulders, which somehow managed to make him look even more ridiculous. “Nailed it.”  He said, giving a thumbs up.

  


“I don't know,” Connor said hesitantly, playing with the zipper on the jacket.

  


“Come on, you can’t just sit inside and watch tv all day.  It’s depressing,” Cole said, all too aware of the irony that his dad said the same thing to him last weekend.  “Look, you're alive, right?”

  


Connor’s face lit up at the question. “Yes.”

  


“Well, what’s the point of being alive if you can’t enjoy it? Go on.  Go feel the sun on your face, hear the birds sing, all that crap.” He was gonna need backup.  “What do you think, boy?” Cole said to Sumo. “Do you want the tin man to take you outside?” Sumo began to pant excitedly at the mention of his name and outside.

  


“Well, okay.”  Cole was pleased that his plan worked.  Now, not only did he not have to go out in the cold but he would have the house to himself.  Which meant he could do the thing he really wanted to do today. When Connor took the leash, Cole started pushing him toward the door.  

  


“Just be sure to stay out there for like twenty… five minutes.  He’s a big boy, he needs his exercise,” he said when Connor and Sumo stepped out on to the front porch.  Sumo cocked his head and made a confused whimper when he realized Cole wasn’t coming with them. “Be good for the tinman, Sumo.”

  


“Why do you keep calling me that?” Connor said sounding considerably annoyed. “Of the eleven elements that make up my body tin is not-” Cole slammed the door on him, definitely uninterested in an android anatomy lesson.

  


Now that he was alone he could finally do what he had been itching to do all day.  He went into his room and grabbed his supplies from his desk, then went into his dad's room.  The walk-in closet had two sides: one held his clothes, and the other had a set of shelves. What Cole wanted was on the top shelf, just out of his reach.  When Cole was younger, he used to have to get a kitchen chair, but he had grown enough in the last few years that if he stood on the first shelf, he could reach it.

  


First was the bottle of whiskey.  Cole kept a close eye on this bottle and how much his dad drank.  Honestly, he was doing better then he was before. There used to be a time when there was a new bottle twice a week than a short period of time when there was no bottle at all, but it came back earlier this year.  Thankfully it wasn’t going very fast lately, typically two or three drinks a night. Today it looked as if it hadn’t moved at all from yesterday, but maybe he was just imagining it.

  


He pushed the bottle to the side and found what he really wanted. It was a small box with ‘tax shit’ written on it in black marker.  ‘Dammit. Why do I have to be so short,’ he thought as he stretched as far as his arm could to get it. He sat with it on the floor and shuffled through the random papers until he found a photo.

  


The corners had begun to bend a bit, but the image was still clear. It was a picture of a young woman in a hospital gown, a young Hank, and a newborn baby. Cole assumed that this was his birth and that the woman was his mother, but assumptions were all they were.

  


His dad never liked to talk about her. Cole didn’t start to question where she was until he was in first grade and all the other kids in his class were making gifts for Mother’s Day.

  


‘Daddy, why don’t I have a mom like everybody else?’

  


‘You do kiddo. She’s just not here anymore. She died when you were really little, but she loves you very much. she loved you with all of her heart.’

  


The memories stung him right in the gut.

  


He found this photo one day when he was six and was left with an inattentive babysitter and was looking for hidden Christmas presents.  Even though he didn’t fully understand at the time what it meant, he knew it was something special. It made him feel happy to look at. To not just hear that she loved him, but to see her smile.  To see his mother hold him in her arms made him feel safe, even though she wasn’t there to do it now. He wanted to keep the photo but didn’t want his dad to know he had been snooping. That’s when he got the idea to make a copy for himself.

  


His first attempt at drawing it was crude, to say the least, but six years had given him plenty of time to practice.  Especially after the accident. When he was lying in that hospital bed, all he could do was draw. Now he considered himself to be pretty good... not great, just pretty good.  However, the one thing he knew he could draw and make great was this. He had five, thirty-page sketch pads full of copies of this picture. He liked to draw other things too, but drawing his family was his go to.

  


He propped the photo up against the box and flipped to a blank page in his sketchpad.  He was feeling colored pencils today. Crayons were cool too, but he had used up all of the green he needs for the ugly hospital wallpaper.  Sometimes he liked to use his felt-tipped pens but he wanted to do it in color, and he definitely wasn't going to risk breaking out the paints again, not after last time.

  


He hovered the pencil tip over the page as he thought about how he wanted to draw it today.   He used to just copy it directly, but that got boring around the fiftieth time. Now he tries to make it in a different style or theme every time.  Sometimes he would draw them as superheroes with capes and masks or as pirates or ninjas. His favorite was the time he drew each of them as a character from his favorite anime.  Giving them big eyes and spiky hair, even little baby him. When he was really mad at his dad, he would draw him with Xs for eyes.

  


He settled on what he wanted to draw and began to trace his dad’s outline.  The light sound of the wax pencil tip against the paper filled the room and just like that, Cole was in the zone.  In his happy place where nothing mattered, where even if he messed up it was okay because no one had to know.

  


Cole had a tendency to lose track of time when he was drawing, but it didn't feel like it took him long to finish this time.  He’s drawn his father and himself as they are now. His dad with his gray hair and wrinkles, himself with his unruly brown hair and twelve-year-old face.  His mother, however, was drawn in pencil so lightly she’s almost not visible. Like she is a ghost. He was proud of this one. He had been getting better at drawing the little details like the wrinkles on his dad’s face or that doofy gap in his front teeth, and even though drawing yourself is super hard he managed to do a pretty alright job.

  


‘I wonder if she was artistic?  I sure as hell didn’t get it from dad,’ he wondered.  He was admiring his work when his vision started to become blurry.       

  


‘Dammit. Stop that,’ he thinks, as a few tears drop on the edge of the paper.  ‘Why are you crying over her? You didn’t even know her. You’re pathetic. Pull your shit together.’

  


He wiped his eyes and started to clean up.  He was putting the pencils away when he heard the front door open and Sumo wildly bounding across the floor.  He looked at his phone. Oh, of course, the dumb machine had been gone for exactly twenty-five minutes. He rushes to put the photo back in its spot in the middle of the pile of random papers and the box back precisely where it was before.

  


“Cole, you were right.  I did enjoy being outside,” Connor called joyously from the living room.  “Although I didn’t hear any birds…. Cole?”

  


Cole opened his dad’s door just a crack and peered out into the hallway.  Connor was now across the hall standing at his bedroom door. ”Cole?” the surgeon said, knocking on his door.  After a few seconds with no response, Connor opened it and looked inside.

  


“Cole!?” he called again, but this time he sounded… worried. “Cole, where are you?” he sounded like a child freaking out when they couldn’t find their parents even though they just saw them a few seconds ago.  How pitiful.

  


That's when he was struck by devilish idea part two.  He opened the door another few inches then snuck back to the closet.  He stood on the bottom shelf and slid the door shut just enough to see out. As he thought, within a few seconds Connor came in.  “Cole? Are you in here?” Connor said cautiously as he walked around surveying the room. Cole had to choke back a laugh. When Connor stepped in front of the door, he slid it open.

  


“BOO!”  Cole shouted as he leaped off the shelf and onto Connor's back.  The two of them tumbled to the floor with a loud thud. Connor smacked his head against the bedpost while Cole gracefully barrel-rolled away from him.  The rush of the jump and seeing Connor's face was enough to make him burst out into laughter. Not cat video laughter, like, a real laugh that you feel all over your body.  The kind of laugh Cole didn’t do nearly enough lately. It was short-lived, however, as when he looked over at the android, he noticed that he wasn't moving. His face was blank, and his eyes were half closed and were staring off at nothing.  

  


“Hey. You okay?” Cole asked, to no response.  He crawled over to him and started waving his hand in front of his face. “Yo, tinman?”

  


“WARNING,”  Connor said, but his voice was different. It was dry and flat; robotic, one might say. It was as if it was a pre-recorded message.  It was so sharp and loud that it made him jump back away from him. “YOUR ACIURGY-8000 HAS SUSTAINED DAMAGE TO ITS MAIN SYSTEM.”

  


“Shit, I must have broke it.  Dad’s gonna be so pissed,” Cole muttered.

  


“WARNING, DAMAGE TO BIO-COMPONENT #17-12.”  Cole had no clue what that meant, but it couldn't have been good.  “WARNING, THERMAL EXPANSION DETECTED IN MAIN POWERCELL. WARNING, THERMAL EXPLOSION IMMINENT.”  Cole knew what that meant, and it definitely was not good.

  


‘Explosion?  Did it just say explosion? No no no!!’ Cole panicked.  ‘I can't burn down the house. No, no no no not my house!’  His heart was beating uncontrollably. This was the only house he had lived in, the only one he’s ever known, he couldn’t let it go up in flames.

  


‘We must have a fire extinguisher somewhere, where is it?  Shit, shit, fuck!’ He tried to pick Connor up in an attempt to move him out of the house, but he was much too heavy.  Grabbing at his arm, Cole tried to drag him but was barely able to get a few inches before he lost his grip and fell back to the floor.  

  


“EMERGENCY SERVICES HAVE BEEN NOTIFIED.”

  


Great, now not only was he gonna burn his house down, but the cops would show up and know they had an android here.

  


‘Fuck, fuck fuck shit, shit...shit!’

  


“PLEASE EVACUATE THE AREA,”

  


‘Shit, shit shit, oh no, no...’

  


“THANK YOU FOR CHOOSING CYBERLIFE.”  Cole was so scared, he couldn't move, he couldn’t even breathe.  He covered his ears, screwed his eyes shut tight and braced himself. “5… 4… 3… 2....1.”  

  


When nothing happened, he slowly opened one of his eyes.  Connor was looking at him with a wide smile, then the android let out a wicked laugh.

  


“YOU ASSHOLE!”  Cole cursed, removing his hands from his ears and slamming them to the floor.  “I thought you were gonna blow up or something. Jesus, You really scared me!”

  


“Well, it serves you right. You scared me first.  I didn’t know where you went. I was afraid something happened to you.”  

  


Cole was still in shock.  He hadn’t realized that androids could have a sense of humor, much less cruel, sick ones like that.  Connor stood up then reached out his hand to help Cole off the floor. “You must be getting hungry. I can make you something if you like.”

  


“No thanks,”  he said sharply, ignoring Connor's hand to pick himself up.  He was so mad he almost left without his pad and pencils.

  


“What's that?”  Connor asked watching him scoop up his supplies.

  


“None of your business,”  Cole barked, storming out of the room and back to his own.  “Freakin’ androids,” he huffed.

  


Now that Sumo was walked and his picture was drawn, he had no reason to leave his room.  He planned on staying locked away until his dad came home or even later. That was until about a half hour later when he heard the sizzling of a pan and smelled garlic cooking.       

 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Originally I wanted this to go on for a bit longer but I felt like it was to long already. The next one might be a little shorter but hopefully that will mean I can get it out faster. 
> 
> Here’s the questions of the chapter?
> 
> What did you eat today? Would Connor approve?


	4. Tricks

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Remember when I said this one would be shorter and be out faster, whoops. Well it’s here now so enjoy.
> 
> Much love to 
> 
> https://archiveofourown.org/users/Fuzziestpuppy/pseuds/Fuzziestpuppy
> 
> And 
> 
> https://archiveofourown.org/users/Wixiany/pseuds/Wixiany
> 
> If hallmark made a card for beta readers, I’d send them one every chapter .

Cole was trying to ignore the rumbling in his stomach, but the smell of whatever Connor was cooking was starting to get to him. It was most definitely garlic. Followed by a bunch of other good smells that made him crave something more substantial than a pop tart, but he'd rather sit there and starve to death than give in to Connor's culinary crusade.

 

He attempted to distract himself with an article on new updates coming to his favorite video game, and when that didn't work, he even tried cleaning his room. Eventually, he broke and decided to head out to the kitchen. Not to get food, of course, just to tell Connor off for cooking even though he said he didn't want anything… then maybe he'd grab a slice of pizza. If Connor had a problem with that, he knew exactly where to tell him to stick his nutrition facts.

 

He could see Connor standing at the stove with a pot and pan steaming away. There was also a cutting board with carrot scraps on the counter to his right. The sleeves of his dad's sweatshirt were rolled up to the deviant's elbows. "I thought I told you I didn't want anything," Cole said with his arms crossed. Connor didn't even acknowledge him. He continued stirring the pan in front of him as if he hadn't heard Cole.

 

"Oh what, you're just gonna give me the silent treatment?" There was still no response from the android. Cole clenched his hands into fists. "You know you're a real jerk, and I'd know, I've met a lot of jerks but you… you come into our house, you nearly make me piss my pants and now you… you're... HEY!"

 

Anger was burning in his chest. He stomped across the kitchen to where Connor was standing. "Stop ignoring me!" he yelled, roughly grabbing the surgeon by the arm. Connor flinched from the sudden contact. The look of shock only lasted for a second before being replaced by a pleasant smile when he realized it was only Cole.

 

"sorry, did you say something? I couldn't hear you. I was listening to music." Connor said.

 

_ 'What? Listening? To music? Deviants like music?' he wonders. 'Wait, do all deviants like music, or just this weirdo?' _

 

"Did you need something?" Connor asked.

 

Cole stopped pondering and shifted his focus back to being angry. "What are you doing?"

 

"Cooking," Connor said as if it weren't obvious.

 

"I'm not hungry."

 

Connor glanced down at his creation then back up at Cole. "Well then, don't eat it," Connor said with a small shrug before returning his attention back to the pots. Cole stood on his toes to see over Connor's shoulders to try and get a better look at what he was making. The larger pot had some kind of white sauce speckled with different herbs. Connor had a spatula in the sauté pan, which has a mixture of bright green peas, small angularly cut carrots, and chunks of chicken. Chicken pot pie?

 

"Where did you get that stuff?" Cole asked knowing full well that there was nothing green in their fridge.

 

"I ordered it from a local food delivery service." Cole raised an eyebrow in suspicion. "Don't worry. The delivery was automated, so no one saw me."

 

"Yeah but… how did you pay for it?"

 

"The service already had your dad's credit card on file." Cole remembered his dad signing them up for that, 'order you're shit online and have it delivered' thing. He could only recall them using it once or twice. Pizza delivery worked just as well after all.

 

"Did you tell dad you were doing that?"

 

"No. I wanted it to be a surprise." Connor said with a bright smile. He picked up the sauté pan and began to scrape its contents into the pot. He blended them into the thick sauce with the spatula.

 

"So, you stole from him?"

 

"Stole?" Connor froze mid-stir. "No. It's not stealing. I can't eat. I got this for you and your dad." Connor explained, his worried eyes glued to Cole.

 

"You took something without asking. That's literally the definition of stealing."

 

"I…" Connor's gleeful expression was gone and replaced with one of distress. "I didn't intend to steal from your dad. I just wanted," he paused, staring off pensively for a moment. "I'll apologize when he comes home."

 

Cole thought the way he hung his head low was kind of overdramatic. He knew his dad wouldn't really care. His dad loved chicken pot pie, he loved not having to cook, and for whatever reason, he seemed to really like Connor. Still, it was good to know the android could feel remorse. In fact, he kind of reminded Cole of the look Sumo gave him when the big mutt ate his tenth birthday cake.

 

"Can you help me?" Connor asked opening one of the drawers and pulling out a soup spoon. "I do not have the ability to taste things. Will you tell me if it's good?" he said offering Cole a hearty scoop of the pie filling. Cole apprehensively took the spoon. He blew on it until it stopped steaming then popped it into his mouth.

 

It was definitely better than any frozen pot pie he had ever had, it might have been better than anything he's ever had in a restaurant. The chicken and vegetables were soft but not too mushy. If he had a grandma, this was what he imagined grandma's cooking would taste like. It was absolutely delicious, but he was not going to admit that to Connor.

 

"Yeah, it's, it's alright," he said lying through his teeth. "Maybe some more, salt."

 

"Your dad's blood pressure is above the preferred range for his age. It's best if he avoids heavily salted foods."

 

"Be sure to tell him that. I'm sure he'll love it." Cole grinned at the thought of his dad making that face he always got when people called him Mister. He absentmindedly raised his spoon back to the pot for another bite. Before it could reach the surface of the sauce, it was knocked away by Connor's spatula.

 

"I thought you said you weren't hungry?" Connor said with a small smirk playing at his lips.

 

"Well, I changed my mind." He attempted to go for it again, but Connor blocked him just like before. The surgeon was faster than a striking snake. "Hey," Cole shouted.

 

Oh, it was on now. Cole raised his spoon to eye level brandishing it like a knight with a sword. Connor stood in front of the pot and mirrored Cole's stance. His spatula held tightly in his hand ready to defend his work. Cole jabbed at Connor, but the android's superhuman reflexes swatted it away in a blur. 'Damn, his weapon has more reach than mine. I'll have to outsmart him.'

 

He attempted a fake out move by crossing high only to dip low. Connor couldn't block him, but he was able to jump back just enough to avoid the blow. Every one of his flourished strikes was reposted by Connor's solid defense.

 

He felt like he was in that old movie his dad made him watch. The one with the princess and the giant rats. 'How did that line go again? Something, something, you killed my father, prepare to die.'

 

With every clatter of the utensils and theatrical grunt, the smile on Cole's face grew until he was full on beaming. He adjusted his target and tilted the spoon, striking Connor so hard in the knuckles he drops his weapon. A dirty move? Perhaps, but this was his castle, and he would do whatever he needed to defend it. Disarmed, Connor put his hands up in surrender.

 

"Alright you win, but that's for dinner," he said gesturing to the pot with his head. "How about I make you a sandwich instead?"

 

Cole couldn't quite shake the feeling that Connor let him win, but his noisy stomach was making him feel kind of indifferent. A sandwich did sound really good. "Sure," he mumbled, trying to sound as apathetic as he could.

 

After turning off the heat under the pie mixture and washing off his spatula, Connor started to assemble Cole's victories sandwich. Cole hopped up to sit on the counter next to where Connor was working. Usually, his dad would yell at him not to do that, but Cole liked being at eye level with people and being as short as he was this was the best way.

 

Connor placed two slices of dark brown bread into the toaster. It had a bunch of weird seeds and stuff in it which would have normally made him gag, but the smell it gave off as it toasted was slightly sweet.

 

"Hey, were you really listening to music just now. Like without headphones or anything." Cole asked while watching Connor chop at the head of lettuce.

 

"Correct."

 

"Shit, wish I could do that." He spaced out for a bit thinking about all the times having invisible noise canceling headphones would be kick ass. School obviously, or any time his dad started going on about how much better it was to grow up at the turn of the millennia.

 

"What types of music do you like?" The android asked.

 

Cole narrowed his eyes at Connor. "What's it to ya?" He grumbled. Connor was getting overly friendly, and Cole wasn't having any of that. He slid off the counter and headed off to the living room.

 

Cole didn't normally like watching tv. He preferred video games, but he'd need his hands free if he was going to be eating. "TV on," he said as he plopped down on the floor in front of the tv.

 

The television flicked on revealing the cooking channel. "Ick, change to channel one-seven-seven." The tv changed over to highlights from last night's gears game. Even though Cole had long since given up on his dream of becoming a star player when he grew up, he still loved watching basketball. It was also nice to have something he and his dad still had in common.

 

Connor gently placed the plate down on the floor next to Cole, then took a seat on the couch behind him. Cole cautiously lifted the top bread slice to check the sandwich for sawblades. 'Can't be too sure. Androids and their sick sense of humor.' No sawblades, just lettuce, tomato, pickles, turkey and cheese.

 

_ 'So, I've gotten him to walk the dog and cook me food,' _ Cole thought as he chewed away at his lunch. He was no longer listening to the sportscasters on tv.  _ 'Guess he's not so bad to have around. I bet I can trick him into emptying the dishwasher too. If only he could do my homework, then he'd… No. It doesn't matter. He's not staying. Dad said he was leaving tonight... Whatever.' _

 

He was finishing up his last few bites of crust when he heard a strange metallic ringing coming from behind him. He turned around and saw Connor repeatedly flipping a quarter into the air. He was staring forward as if his hands were operating on their own.

 

"What are you doing?" Cole asked watching the dexterous droid catch the falling coin on the tip of his first finger, spinning it around a few times before guiding it to his middle finger.

 

"It helps distract me," Connor said still not moving his affixed stare or placid face.

 

"Well knock it off, it's annoying." Despite his words, Cole could not take his eyes off the shiny circle dancing across his fingers. Connor ignored his demand and continued his routine. He held out his arms and then as if he was a master of gravity, he sent the coin flying from one hand only to be caught between the first two fingers of the other.

 

"Wow," Cole unintentionally uttered out loud.

 

"I could teach you if you'd like," Connor said smiling.

 

"No thanks," Cole said rudely. He returned his attention back to the tv for only a few seconds before turning back to ask: "Is it hard?" He thought about how everyone in his class went gaga over Niles Turner and his lame ass water bottle tricks and how this was way cooler.

 

"It takes practice."

 

After a good twenty minutes of "practice", Cole was starting to get frustrated. His flicking muscles were hurting, and he didn't feel like he was making any progress. The only thing that kept him going was the idea of impressing his classmates. Seventh grade was a war zone but having a fun, quirky habit mostly kept you from the front lines. He was really counting on being able to show this off to them, particularly the girls, or maybe just one particular girl.

 

"You almost got it. Just tilt your hand nine degrees higher," Connor instructed. He was standing shoulder to shoulder with Cole, trying to demonstrate with his own hands what to do.

 

"I'm not a fricking protractor dick head. I can't just..." The coin missed his fingers again. It hit the floor and then rolled underneath the couch. He was about to shout the worst swear word at his disposal when the sound of the doorbell ringing made him freeze up.

 

"Is that your father?" Connor asked quietly.

 

"You idiot, why would my dad ring the doorbell," Cole manage to whisper and yell simultaneously. Connor just stood perfectly still with a deer in the headlights look on his face. "Well, what are you waiting for, go hide." He jerked his head towards their bedrooms. The android took off down the hall while Cole made his way to the front door.

 

_ 'It's fine, it's fine, it's probably no one. _ ' He took a few deep breaths, trying to get his heart to slow down.

 

When he opened the door, he found himself face to face with two DPD officers, one human, and one android. The human he recognized, though he wished he didn't, as detective Gavin Reed. No, not a detective anymore. He had been promoted to a sergeant a while back. He knew that because he remembered his dad grumbling about how the jerk needed a therapist, not a promotion. The two had the misfortune of having to interact with each other more than a handful of times. He even babysat for him once. Cole got gum in his hair, his dad was so proud.

 

The android, on the other hand, was one Cole had never seen before. He had spent enough time at the precinct to have seen all the different models of androids they had there, but he had never seen this thing before. It was intimidatingly tall, but maybe that was its stupid 80's popped collar nightmare jacket giving off that perception. The word RK-900 was embroidered on its jacket above its pocket. It stared at him intently with focused eyes undoubtedly scanning him. When it was finished, it shifted into an approachable smile. "Good afternoon young man. My name is-"

 

"You can skip the Pleasantries RK," Gavin interrupted, "this is Cole, he's Anderson's kid."

 

Cole was terrified. There was no way these two were here to see his dad. They were clearly looking for deviants. ' _ It's ok, it's ok. Time to break out the Cole Anderson's five easy steps to getting people you don't like to leave you the hell alone.' _

 

"Hey there, Richard," Cole said cheerfully.

 

"Very funny kid. You know my name is Gavin," the man snapped.

 

"Oh right, sorry. I just saw your face and thought you kind of looked like a dick." He had heard that line in a movie and had been waiting for a chance to use it.  _ 'Step one - insult them.' _

 

"You fucking little-" the RK-900 cleared its throat, effectively shutting Gavin up.

 

"We're here investigating a report of a suspected deviant in the area," the android said formally. "Have you seen anyone that looks like this?" It held out its hand and projected a picture of Connor's goofy face across its palm. Cole's heart dropped. "It escaped from a hospital across town last night, but witnesses claimed to have seen it walking a dog around this neighborhood this morning at approximately 11:30 a.m."

 

"Can't say that I have," Cole said trying to seem as calm and collected as he could. He knew all the tells they'd be looking for, so he was trying his best not to show them. He didn't fidget or look away from them, but there was nothing he could do about the stripe of sweat forming at his hairline. "But then again I'm one of those shut-in kids so, I don't see anything except my computer screen. Maybe you should try asking the old ladies who are always power walking around here."  _ 'Step two - direct their attention somewhere else.' _

 

"We did, they said they saw it walking a st. Bernard. Very distinct breed isn't it? Now if I recall you and your father own one of those, don't you?" Gavin said with a sickening amount of arrogance in his voice.

 

"Yeah... yeah we did, but he died last month," Cole squeaked looking at the two with sad eyes. Unfortunately, at that moment Sumo let out a deep bark as if to say 'hey, no I didn't.' "Ummm… which is why we got a new dog. We call him... Samurai... he's a... wolf… hound." Cole fumbled, trying to make a functioning statement. He never knew he was so bad under pressure. "I should shut this door to make sure he doesn't get out. Stay Samurai." He called to the imaginary dog before stepping on to the porch and shutting the door behind him.

 

"Actually we were wondering if we could come inside and have a look around," Gavin said.

 

"Do you have a warrant?" Cole asked knowing full well they didn't. He didn't need to be the son of a cop to know that trick.

 

"No, but-"

 

"Then I'm gonna have to kindly ask you to screw off," Cole said with a smirk. He was attempting to implement step number three, _ 'unsettling amount of eye contact'  _ by staring down the android but its dark eyes and daunting height was making him uneasy, so he switched his target to the human. "Why don't you and your plastic boyfriend go bug somebody else."

 

"If you were my kid I'd teach you not to talk like that the hard way," Gavin sneared.

 

"Sergeant, please," RK-900 said. Gavin glared at the android as if it just insulted his mother. Cole took their little standoff as an opportunity to implement step number four,  _ 'stand your ground.' _

 

"How about I give you two lovebirds to the count of ten to get off my property before I call Fowler and tell him you two are wasting time pestering your superior's son." He pulled out his phone, then pretended to be searching through his contacts. He didn't actually have the captain's number, but he was counting on them not calling that bluff.

 

The RK-900 knelt down to get on Cole's level. He was unsure whether it did this to emasculate him or in an attempt to get him to empathize but to Cole, it felt like the former.

 

"Listen, I know your father has an... affinity for androids," it said softly. "I'm sure he was just trying to help this deviant. If you tell us where it is, we won't tell anyone we found it here. We'll say we found it on the street somewhere. I promise neither you or your dad will get in trouble." If Cole was born the son of a banker or plumber, he might have been dumb enough to fall for that, but he was the son of the greatest cop in DPD history. He knew these two would say anything to get what they wanted and much like his dad, their promises were just empty words.

 

"I don't know what to tell ya, it's not here. What would we even want with an android surgeon anyway? Now if it were one of those butler types that would be cool, then I wouldn't need to do my chores and…" Cole trailed off when he saw the crooked smile spreading across Gavin's face.

 

"Funny, we didn't say it was a surgeon. Did we RK?" he said to his partner.

 

_ 'SHIT!' _

 

"No," the RK-900 said returning to its full height. "I had stated that it originated from a hospital, but I did not specify its function."

 

"You didn't have to, that's an ACIURGY-8000 right? I'll always remember that android's stupid face." Cole raised his shirt revealing the pronounced scar that ran from his collarbone to his belly button. "One of them sliced me up good. I lived but the damn plastic totally botched it. Took years of physical therapy just to get me to the point where I can do anything remotely physical without going into cardiac arrest."  _ Step five - make them visibly uncomfortable.  _ "If I ever saw it again I'd pull its blood pumpy thing out of its chest and make it-"

 

"All right, all right kid. Chill the fuck out, and put your shirt down for god sake." Gavin shoved his hands into his jacket pockets before turning to the android. "Come on RK, we still got the rest of this shitty neighborhood to sweep." He was turning to leave, but the RK-900 did not follow.

 

"Sergeant, I think -"

 

"Hey." Gavin grabbed the android by its ridiculous collar. The sergeant was inches from its face, snarling like a crazed animal but the android's expression stayed steady as did its LED. "What more do I have to do to get it through your thick plastic skull. I am in charge. That means when I say shut the fuck up, you shut the fuck up, when I say get me a coffee, you get me a coffee, and when I say we're leaving, then we're fucking leaving." He released his grasp and began to walk down their driveway to the police cruiser parked there. The RK-900 adjusted its tie and collar before fixing Cole with one last knowing gaze.

 

"Have a nice day Mr. Anderson." Cole frowned now understanding why his dad hated that so much.

 

_ 'That's right turtleneck. Just keep walking. Nothing to see here.' _ He thought as he watched it followed Gavin to the car. He waited until he heard the cruiser's engine start before rushing back inside.

 

Once inside he leaned back against the door and started breathing deeply trying to bring his heart rate back to normal. As if on cue, Sumo trotted over to comfort him. _ 'It's fine, it's fine, they're gone. You did it. It's fine.' _ He repeated over and over in his head as he ran his fingers through the soft fur of his dog. He was cursing under his breath when Connor came around the corner.

 

"Are you ok?" Connor asked nervously.

 

"Just peachy, how 'bout you?" he said with his eyes closed while rubbing his chest. He was being sarcastic, but Connor didn't seem to get that.

 

"I… I was scared," he said shakily. Cole looked up at Connor whose eyes were red as if he'd been crying, but androids didn't cry, did they? "I calculated a 96% chance of you taking the deviant hunter's offer," the android whimpered.

 

"Yeah, well, you didn't factor in that I'm not a snitch."

 

Before Cole could even blink, Connor had rushed over to him and thrown his arms around his shoulders clutching on to him as if his life depended on it. He pushed Cole's head against his chest where he could hear the steady thrumming of his thirium pump. "Thank you," Connor whispered.

 

"Get off me," Cole growled pushing the deviant away from him like he had some sort of infectious disease. "Look, I didn't do it for you. I did it to keep my dad and me safe. That whole 'confess and I'll go easy on you' line is a bunch of bullshit, dad's always pulling it on me." Plus, if he did let those two take Connor, his dad would never forgive him. It'd be coal for Christmas for the rest of his life.

 

"Well, whatever your motivation was, you saved me, so I am grateful," Connor said with a soft smile. "Although," his eyebrows knit together in a look of disappointment, "I don't approve of your language."

 

"Approve this," Cole said flipping him off again.

 

"No I will not."

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Now I know what your thinking. “Do Connor and the RK900 look the same? Are they different? Which one looks like canon Connor?” To which the answer is... Eah don’t think too hard about it because I certainly didn’t.


	5. There's No Place Like Home

When Hank joined the police force in 2015 he had high ambitions.  He wanted to make a name for himself, to be known as a man who got things done.  Graduating top of his class only motivated him to push harder. The Sleepless nights and unpaid overtime would have crushed most, but Hank just kept pushing.  It all paid off in the end when he was promoted to lieutenant, the youngest in DPD history he was proud to add. He had plans to become captain and from there chief of police, then Cole came into his life. The kid was like a 7.7 pound, 20-inch wrecking ball in Hanks career, and on days like this, he couldn’t be more grateful for that. 

He watched Jeffrey age ten years over the last few days. The FBI and cyber life we’re breathing down his neck as the city went from run of the mill to a police state, to civil war in just a few days. Then there was the additional pain of losing all their android employees, essentially putting them at a third of their staff.

 

Hank was hunched over at his desk trying to focus on the files in front of him. he made a deal with the Captain to take on the shitty paperwork no one else had the time or patience to deal with if it meant he could go home as soon as it was done. Of course, Jeffery tried to give him a Lecture about his responsibilities as a lieutenant but Hank pulled the ‘my son is home alone’ card. This had only worked on the captain less than a handful of times but it had extra weight today seeing as the city was on the brink of collapsing into total chaos. 

 

“Is everything alright lieutenant?” A familiar voice said. He looked up and saw the only remaining android in the precinct Looking at him with Concern.

 

Cyberlife's crowning achievement, The RK-900 in all it’s deviant hunting glory.  

 

“Just peachy RK, thank you,”  he returned his eyes to his computer screen Hoping the android’s behavioral recognition software would notice his subtle hints telling it to fuck off. Normally Hank didn’t mind talking to the thing. It was typically far more polite and pleasant than many of his co-workers, but right now he just wanted to focus. 

 

“A change in your regular behavioral patterns leads me to believe that something is wrong,” It said. 

 

“Change?” Hank asked, eyeing the android. 

 

“You normally say good morning to me.” It was true, Hank would always acknowledge the RK-900 the same he would any of his human coworkers. This wasn't an abnormal thing for Hank. he would say good morning to the android receptionist and reply “you too” whenever an android clerk told him to have a nice day, despite the weird looks he would get from his fellow humans. He couldn't help it, he had been raised by strict parents. he was taught to be polite, to say please and thank you, to hold eye contact and all that. it was not something he could unlearn just because they weren't technically people. 

 

He also had a theory that being a dick to something that looks and behaves like a person, was a slippery slope to becoming an indiscriminate dick.

 

“Good morning, RK.” Hank said. He lent back in his chair taking in the sight of the android. There was still a part of him that wished he had taken Jeffry up on his offer to make the thing his partner. He gave his typical excuses. I'm overworked, I'm under-qualified, I can’t be taking on any extra night shifts and while that was all true his real reason was knowing he’d never be able to bring any harm to a deviant, not after one saved the only thing that made his life worth living.

 

“Good morning, Lieutenant,” the android replied with a slight nod of its head.  Suddenly Gavin came bursting through the front doors with his normal Hungover disheveled look and signature Scowl. ‘Speaking of Indiscriminate dicks’. “Good morning, Sargent Reed.” RK said as Gavin approached them. “How are-”

 

“Get me a coffee dip-shit,”  Gavin ordered without stopping to acknowledge the android or the lieutenant. The android’s smile never faltered,  it simply shifted its line of sight towards Hank.

 

“Have a nice day lieutenant,” it said to him before turning off to the break room to fetch Gavin his drink. When it first arrived it had asked Hank for advice on “Achieving the most efficient means of cooperating with the sergeant” and Hank had jokingly told it to put bourbon in his coffee.  He really hoped it knew he was kidding. 

 

‘If having to be around that prick all day doesn't make the thing want to break free nothing will.’ he Shook the Unnecessary thought from his head and returned his attention to his paperwork. He had enuff to deal with, with just one Deviant. 

  
  


Hank didn’t return home till almost 7 that night.  He would have been home sooner but by the time he finally made it to Pedro's place, He found himself in the middle of a quinceanera.  Pedro told him it would only take a few minutes but he disappeared somewhere in the crowd of people. Hank didn't see him again for nearly 40 minutes and somehow managed to get himself volunteered to help in the kitchen.  He was stuffing tamales when Pedro finally returned with Connor's papers. 

 

Hank was parked in his driveway staring at Connors passport in silent reflection while the radio played his favorite feel bad song.  Even though Pedro cut him a deal in Exchange for never ratting on his Illegal gambling ring, the simple sheets of paper still had run Hank an obscene amount of money, more than he had to spare really. He made sure he had just enough to cover a month of mortgage and bills before transferring the rest to Pedro.  His bank account hadn't been that low since he was in his twenties. 

 

‘Fuck, what have I done.’ He thinks as he anxiously drums his fingers on the steering wheel. ‘Well Cole, you got your wish.  You’re not gonna have to wear those “stupid” braces now.’

 

He was racking his brain trying to think of places he could tighten his budget. He could sell his car there for never having to pay the extremely high insurance rates for owning a non-self-driving car. Then there was the money they spent on take-out, perhaps he could save a bit by buying more frozen pizzas instead of getting delivery every other night.

 

He really didn't want to, but he could also cut into Cole’s art supply budget.  He wanted to encourage his son to be artistic and to have hobbies but Hank could never figure out where all those dam supplies went.  For buying him a new sketch pad pretty much every month he almost never saw the kid draw anymore. He wasn't totally unconvinced the boy didn't have some sort of racketeering scheme going on at his school.  Though he really knew the best place to trim excess spending would be to stop drinking again. 

 

When Hank became a father, he made a vow not to be anything like his own father, and being a sad, pathetic, literal closet drunk was keeping him from upholding that. 

 

He finally worked up the willpower to go inside.  When he opened his front door and walked into the living room he was more than a bit surprised to see Cole and Connor watching tv together. Well almost together.  With the exception of his perfect posture, Connor was sitting normally on one end of the couch, while Cole was perched on the back of the other end, as if trying to put as much distance between them as possible.  It was kind of funny how the kid always seemed to be getting up on high places because it made him feel taller. 

 

What happened next felt like something out of a cheesy sitcom.  The sound of the door shutting snapped the boys attention away from the old movie.  Two brunette heads moving in an almost eerie synchronicity. Even sumo perked up from his slumber.

 

“Dad!”  Cole cheered.  The sound of the joy in his voice warmed Hank’s heart in a way that made it impossible to hold on to the stresses of the day or the worries of the future.  It made Hank Nostalgic for the days when Cole would run to the front door yelling “DADDY’S HOME” whenever he returned from work. 

 

Connor and Sumo shot up from where they were sitting to greet him, but Cole got to him first.  The boy swung his legs over the back of the couch and hopped down. Hank noticed his shirt was covered in something white but he didn’t have time to get a good enough look at it before Cole wrapped his arms around him in a great big hug.  Hugs were something the preteen only did when he was either having a good day or really bad day, but judging by his gigantic smile it was a good day.

 

“Why do you smell like tacos?”  Cole asked.

 

“Why are  _ you  _ covered in flower?”  Hank said, pointing down at his son's soiled shirt.  He could only assume it was flower, though he couldn’t picture his son baking.  When Cole looked down, Hank gently flicked the tip of his nose. One of his many tricks that would have made a younger Cole giggle, but now only received a glare. 

 

“We were making pie crust,” Connor said cheerily, his sweatshirt also covered in the white residue.  Hank’s jaw dropped open at the word we. The only thing less believable than his son baking was the idea that he was doing it with Connor.  The android who was the bane of his existence last night was now cooking with him? 

 

“Oh right,” Cole stepped away and turned back to Connor.   “Connor? Don’t you have something to say to dad?” Cole said motioning to Hank. Connor's face was crestfallen. 

 

“Yes. Hank, I used your credit card to order the ingredients for dinner tonight.  I just wanted to be useful,” Connor’s eyes dropped to the floor where his feet shuffled nervously.  “But Cole explained to me how that could be considered a form of stealing.” He croaked. “I’m sorry I should have asked you first.  I don't have any money to pay you back with, but I’m sure I can find a way to make it up to you somehow.” 

“It’s fine Connor.  Yes, you SHOULD have asked me, but You’re cooking us an actual meal, that's more than payback enough.”  Hank said, trying to cut him off before he started rambling. “I would have had to buy stuff at some point anyway.”  He gave the android a firm pat on the upper arm prompting a smile back on to his face. Hank turned to look back at his son who was wearing a look of disappointment.  Apparently, he was expecting Hank to make a bigger deal out of it, but how could he when the house smelled so good. Cole shoved his hands into his pockets where something turned his sour face into a smile.  He pulled out a quarter then held his arms out as if he was about to perform a magic trick. 

 

“ Hey dad, check this out.”  He shot the coin from his fingers toward his other hand but it missed and fell to the floor.  “Wait, hold on.” He said, picking it back up and trying again. This time it hit his hand but his fingers didn’t close fast enough so it landed at his feet.  “I swear I was doing it earlier.” His third attempt produced the same results. “Shit.” He said through gritted teeth. 

 

“That’s two for you.”  Hank declared, referring to a game the two of them played.

 

Cole’s teachers had brought up his inappropriate language more than a few times.  Hank knew he could only blame himself and his filthy fucking mouth for that. He wanted to stop, but it was difficult for him to switch it on and off and he needed to be able to have it on for work.  It wasn't as if he could go into an interrogation room and say “alright you poop head. I’m sick of your funky bull shrimp. You lying mother trucker, do you know what they’ll do to you in jail. They’ll frack you in the bum morning noon and night.”  Needless to say, that wouldn’t go over too well, but for his son’s sake, he was trying his best. The two of them agreed to a little motivation through competition. You got one point for anything worse than hell or dam and two points for the F, S, and C, words.  Whoever had more points by bedtime owed the other one a dollar.

 

Cole bit at his bottom lip and focused on his hands.  He was finally able to make the quarter jump from hand to hand.  “HA.” He yelled triumphantly. “Pretty cool, ha?”

 

Hank smiled so wide that it hurt his cheeks and temples.  “That’s awesome bud,” he said tossaling his son’s hair. “Did Connor teach you that?”

 

“Um, yeah,” Cole mumbled looking away in embarrassment.  He shoved the quarter back into his pocket. “It’s no big deal,” 

 

An awkward silence fell over them and in the lull Hank could hear more clearly what had been playing in the background. “O scarecrow, I’ll miss you most of all…”

 

“The Wizard of Oz?” Hank asked no one particular. He watched as the tv played the finale of the movie that was old enuff to be a classic when  _ he  _ was a kid.   

 

“It’s no fun making fun of something that doesn't get it.”  Cole explained, throwing his eyes up at Connor suggestively.  “Plus It wouldn’t stop watching the news, which was bumming me out.” 

 

“Don't call him it, Cole,”  Hank said, his smile fading away. 

 

“Whatever,” the boy retorted with an eye roll. 

 

“Cole, my internal timer is telling me that the dough has rested for an adequate amount of time and should be ready to roll now. would you like to come help me?” Connor asked blithely, seemingly unbothered by the boy’s rudeness.

 

“Heck yeah, that's the fun part,”  Cole said dashing off to the kitchen. The kid was giving Hank emotional whiplash, but at least he seemed in a relatively good mood today.  Even Connor smiled a bit brighter than last night. It was almost as if he wasn’t a fugitive with his very existence being challenged by the whole world. He watched as the two boys gather equipment and ingredients for their project. 

 

“I’m gonna get changed,”  Hank said, not getting a response but not really expecting one.  Once he closed the door to his room he kicked off his shoes and hung up his jacket, which had Connor’s papers in the pocket.  ‘I’ll drive him to the bus terminal after dinner. I'm hungry.’ He thought as he unbuttoned his shirt. ‘Bsides what harm will a few more hours do.’  

 

“Would you mind if I put on some music?”  he heard Connor ask in the kitchen. There was an electronic chime from the Bluetooth speakers powering on and connecting to something.  It was then followed by the beginning of a song Hank instantly recognized as the first song of Perfect Circle’s Emotive album. Hank tried not to think about how many years ago he bought that album, but he couldn’t stop his mind from wandering back to those younger days. 

 

“Seriously?” Cole wined. “Don't tell me you like this organic shi… junk too.” Hank groaned at the asinine term Cole’s generation used to refer to any kind of music made with real instruments, instead of the computer-generated crap they liked so much. 

 

“It’s not junk.” Connor refuted. “ Maynard James Keenan was the voice of a generation.” 

 

“Yeah, but your an android,” there was another set of beeps as Cole took control of the speakers.  “You're supposed to like stuff like this.” Something Hank would barely consider a song came on over the speakers. Blasting low bass, drum machines, and synthesizers. Hank had to fight back the urge to tell him to turn that shit off. He hated giving in to his old man tendencies. He just continued to change out of his work close and into something that didn't smell like the coffee sweats. After another minute the speakers switched back to 2000’s alt-rock.

“Naw, this is better,”  Connor said passively. “It has words.”

 

“It’s not better, everybody likes different things.  I like my synthetics and you're like, a rock and roll kind of guy, and why would words make it better?”  There was a pause. “What?” Cole said sharply. “Why are you smiling at me like that?”

 

“You just called me a guy,”  Connor said with a little delight in his voice.

 

“No, I didn’t, I meant…” Hank could only picture how red his son’s face must have been at that moment.

 

“You think I’m a person?”

 

“NO.”

 

“You do, don’t you.  You think I’m alive?”

 

“Shut up.”

 

“Hank Hank,” Connor called excitedly.  “Cole thinks I’m alive!” ok, now he was teasing the pore kid.

 

“I’m gonna kill you,” Cole growled.

 

“You can’t kill me if I’m not alive, so which is it? Hum?”

 

There was a loud crash of something hard and heavy hitting the floor.  Hank rushed out to see what had happened. Cole and Conner were on the living room floor which would have been cause for concern if it weren't for the smiles on their faces.  Connor was pinned under Cole, who had him in a haphazard headlock. “Come on Tinman, show me what you got.” Cole Challenged. With that Connor’s smile Twisted into something almost sinister.  The surgeon pushed up and wrapped his arms around Cole’s middle. Switching their position in one fast fluid motion. “Ouff, Hey. no fair.” Cole mumbled into the carpet.

 

Watching this friendly display of dominance, Hank was reminded of how he and his brothers use to do the same thing at that age.  Not wanting to be left out of the fun Hank approached them. 

 

“Connor! WHAT ARE YOU DOING?”  Hank said in a voice that normally made hardened criminals shit their pants.  Connor’s eyes went wide as he released his grip on the boy. The android sat straight up and moved back a half foot away from them.  He looked even more terrified than he did last night standing in the rain. “Cole is a human. You can’t touch him like that,” he said pulling his son close to him.  The facade shattered and a smile crawled across his face. “You gotta do it like this.” He said pulling Coles arms up over his head with one arm and tickling his side with the other.  The boy let out a shrill shriek as Hank wiggled his fingers viciously. 

 

“DAD STOP, COME ON, STOP IT.”  He yelled threw breathy giggles.  It clicked with Connor what was happening and he jumped up to join.  Hank moved to Coles weak spot on his neck while Connor got his sides.  The three of them laughed hysterically. “I'M GONNA THROW UP ALL OVER YOU, IS THAT WHAT YOU WANT?”  Hank wasn't willing to risk finding out if he was bluffing and released him.

 

After a half hour of baking and fifteen minutes of cooling the pie was almost ready to be served.  Cole fed sumo his dinner while Hank set the table. He almost grabbed three plates before remembering that Connor didn’t eat.  He still dragged in a third chair from the living room so he could sit with them. “O sh-snap,” Cole said nearly letting a curse slip.  “I just realized, we didn’t make a dessert.” He vigorously shook the can of wet food until it splattered in the dog’s dish.

 

“Dessert?”  Connor said.  He brought the pie over to the table with his bare hands unbothered by its heat and began to slice and serve it onto their plates.

 

“Yeah, it's the most important part of the meal.”

 

“Oh, the cooking program didn't mention that.  Maybe I can make something real quick.” Connor said opening the refrigerator, frantically searching through it.

 

“Naw, it’s fine,”  Cole said sitting down at the table.  Connor took the seat across from him, leaving the odd chair at the head of the table for Hank.  “But we’ll definitely have to make something tomorrow.” 

 

“Tomorrow?”  Connor said dejectedly.  His eyes grew dark and his shoulders sagged. 

 

“O...right,”  Cole said in quiet realization.

 

“Actually.”  Hank chimed in.  Connor immediately perked up.“ Pedro said your passport won't be ready till tomorrow, so looks like you’ll be staying with us one more night.”  Connor’s smile was blinding. “Is that ok Cole?”

 

“I don’t care,” he grumbled before shoving a large fork full of the pie into his mouth. It wasn't much but disinterested was an improvement from last night’s hostility. 

 

Hank looked down at his meal. It was almost too perfect to eat.  The crust was a golden brown and the chunks of vegetables and chicken spilled out the sides.  This was the first home cooked meal that wasn’t burnt or disgusting they had had in years. His first bite confirmed that it indeed tasted even better then it looked.  Connor was watching him Intently, patiently waiting for his reaction. 

 

“This is amazing.  You boys did a great job.”

 

“Thanks dad.” Cole and Connor said in unison.  If looks could kill, the one Cole gave to Connor would have killed, dumped the body, and pawned all his belongings.

 

Connor’s eyes widened and his mouth hung open as if he couldn’t believe what he had said. “umm...I..I meant…” he stammered.

 

“It’s ok Connor,” Hank said.  He wasn’t entirely sure if he meant it, but seeing the look on Connor’s face made him sure that reprimanding him wouldn’t do anybody any good.

 

“No I-I didn't mean that it just… slipped out.”  He raised his fingers to his lips, almost touching but not quite. “Some sort of error in my speech software,”  Something just shy of panic was flowing in his voice. “or perhaps spending so much time with Cole today made me more accustomed to that title for you, or…” he trailed off clearly unable to find a reasonable explanation. 

 

“Connor, relax it's fine. Really.”  Connor warily nodded, then took Hanks suggestion to relax literally as he lent back in his chair in his first display of sitting normally, instead of like the fucking queen of England. 

 

It was a nice site.  Maybe the kid was growing on him a bit.  Cole apparently didn't share Hanks sentiment as he was still staring daggers at the android.  His mouth, however, turned up into a sly smile. 

 

“Can you pass the salt,  _ Hank? _ ” Cole said emphasizing the hell out of his father’s name.  Hank knew he was only saying that to get a rise out of him, but it worked. 

 

“That's not funny Cole.”  He said firmly. Hank used to do the same thing to his father.  Trying to show him how little respect he had for the bastard and how he didn’t see him as his father anymore.  Even if Cole was only kidding, the possibility that his own son might feel that way someday sent a sharp pain through his chest. 

 

“O sorry,” the boy said snidely.  Mimicking the way Connor brought his hand to his mouth. “I guess spending so much time with Connor-”

 

“Cole I'm serious,  _ do NOT  _ call me that.  Do you understand me.”  The words came out a lot more aggressive than he meant them to.  His temper was another trait from his father he needed to learn to control.

 

“Alright. Jesus.”  Cole said defensively.  Another awkward silence enveloped the room.

 

“So, what else did you boys do today?”  Hank said, trying to revive the mood he just killed. 

 

“Well,” Connor began.  “The deviant hunter came for me, but Cole scared him away by swearing at-”

 

“What? RK was here? was Reed with him?” 

 

“It’s fine dad,”  Cole assured. “They didn't see anything.”  He continued eating nonchalantly as if that would make Hank give it up. 

 

“How did they know you were here?”  He asked Connor.

 

“I must have been seen when I was walking Sumo.”  The android replied. In the corner of Hank’s eye, he could see Cole gesturing to Connor to shut up by waving his hands and putting his finger to his lips.

 

“Cole,” when he turned to look at his son Cole quickly put his hands down trying to look natural.    “Why was Connor walking Sumo? That’s your responsibility. ”

 

Cole took a large sip of his soda to buy some time but the best he could come up with was. “Umm well…. you know.”

 

“Fucking hell,”  Hank rubbed his hands over his face.  Suddenly he was regretting telling Connor he could stay another night.  “This could have been bad. This could have been very very bad. what do you have to say for yourself young man?”  He said crossly to his son. 

 

“The f-word is 2 for you,” Cole mumbled, refusing to look up from his plate. 

 

“Cole!” Hank shouted.

 

“It was my fault, Hank,” Connor interjected.  “I wanted to take sumo for his walk so I told Cole I’d take him, he tried to tell me it was risky but I thought it would be ok.  I’m sorry, I just wanted to see the sunlight.” His soft voice subsided Hanks anger. How could he get mad at a slave who just wanted to know what the sun looked like?  He let out a heavy sigh before responding. 

 

“Connor.”  He said putting on his, I’m not mad just disappointed voice he had perfected over the years.  “That was very dangerous. You not only put yourself at risk, but Cole and me too. I want you to think things through next time.”

 

“Yes Hank.” 

 

“And Cole,”  He turned to look back at his son.  Hank could have sworn he saw Cole mouthing the words thank you to Connor, but that couldn't have been it.  “I know Connor might look like he’s a grown-up, but in a lot of ways he's not. You have to watch out for him.”

 

A mischievous smile spread across the boy’s face.  “Does that mean I’m the boss of him?”

 

“How about more like a big brother.”  Cole frowned deeply at the suggestion.

 

“It’s not my brother.”  He said spitefully.

  
  
  


**Notes for the Chapter:**

> look's like Connor is staying one more night with the Andersons. let's hope Hank doesn't end up regretting that. 
> 
> Thanks to all you lovely people who leave nice words of encouragement for me. It never fails to make me smile.
> 
> The question of the chapter is... what kind of music do you like? are you with Cole, electronics all the way? or more like Connor with a love for rock? both? nither? shout it out loud in the comments.


	6. Rated R

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Movie night.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Wow, thanks for being so patient with me and how long this took. I promise I’ll never stop this one, it might take some time but I will finish it.
> 
> "WOOF!" What's that boy? live reading of Time Heals and other amazing fanfic available athttps://www.youtube.com/channel/UCt50ptmKtNVtxMLYvUVm9DQ and live at https://mixer.com/DerrickGnC?vod=103720506 every Friday 7 PM EDT. "BARK!" and this chapter was made possible by the fantastic help of https://archiveofourown.org/users/Fuzziestpuppy/pseuds/Fuzziestpuppy "WOOF WOOF!" Oh, no you just have to pee don't you. "whinnnne"

 

 

October 18, 2032

Hank watched his son from the rearview mirror of his car. The six-year-old was excitedly rocking back and forth in his booster seat as he recapped the entire story of the movie he had just seen.

 

“And then, the-the big monster went RAWWW, and he was gonna squash the big brotder, but um the little brotder, shot his magic arrows and it went, BOSHISH,” His cheeks puffed out as his tiny hands demonstrated an explosion. “and he saved his brotder and then...” Cole continued breathlessly divulging every detail he could remember.

 

This was Hank’s favorite part of the day. Hearing his son’s happy voice after picking him up from a friend’s or a babysitter always lifted his spirits. Not even the double homicide that was dumped on him earlier that day could knock the smile from his face.

 

“That’s awesome pal,” He said as he pulled into their driveway. “I’m glad you had a good time with your friends today.”

 

“Yeah. Can I have one?”

 

“One what, bud?” Hank asked, throwing the car in park.

 

“A little brotder.” Hank’s hand froze over his seatbelt. He deflated like a balloon four days post party.

 

Cole was undoubtedly the greatest thing in his life. The day he became a father was the day everything changed for the better, and while the idea of Cole teaching a little one to skip stones up at the lake or having two squeaky voices call out “I love you daddy” made his heart ache in the best way, he knew it would never happen. Taking care of one child on his own was difficult enough both physically and financially. On top of all that, where would he?… who would he?... he couldn’t.

 

“I’m sorry, but no.” From the mirror, he could see Cole's warm sunny smile melt away.

 

“Why not?” Cole whined.

 

“Because… because a little brother isn’t like a toy or an android. I can’t just go to a store and get you one,” he said, hoping there wouldn’t be a follow-up question as to where baby brothers do come from. He stood up from the driver's seat and walked around to the back to unbuckle his son.

 

“But, but,” Cole stammered. Hank recognize that tone as a sign that the child was about to have a meltdown. Tears were already filling his earthy brown eyes. “Who’s gonna be my best friend? Who’s gonna play with me?”

 

“Me, bud. I’ll always be here for you,” he assured. When he lifted his son he let out a guttural groan. Everyday Cole got a little heavier and he got a little older, it was a bad combo.

 

“But you're always working.” The boy pouted. He kicked at the loose gravel of the driveway, his light up sneakers twinkling red and blue in the autumn twilight.

 

“I know, but somebody’s gotta make the doughnuts.”

 

“You don’t make doughnuts,” Cole giggled. “You eat them.” He poked Hank in the belly which indeed was currently home to two late-afternoon doughnuts.

 

“Ok. You got me there,” he said with a chuckle. He unlocked the front door and the two of them stepped into their silent home.

 

‘Maybe I should call that guy back about the puppies. I bet that would make him forget about the brother thing,’ Hank thought as he watched a dejected Cole slink over to the couch. He belly flopped down with a sullen expression. Hank sat down next to him and started gently rubbing circles into his back.

 

“I know it’s not the same, but no matter what, I’ll always be your best friend kiddo.”

 

“You promise,” Cole said, lifting his head from the cushion.

 

“Only if you promise to always be mine.” He said holding out his pinky finger.

 

Cole wrapped his pint-sized pinky around his father's. “I promise,” He repeated quietly. “Forever and ever.”

 

November 10, 2028

Hank watched as his preteen son brought his empty dinner plate to the sink. The boy was still sulking and hadn’t said a word since the big brother comment. Although, that was just how Anderson dinners were lately. Quiet.

 

‘Did forever and ever already come and go?’ Hank thought as the boy trotted off to his room where he would probably lock himself away to play video games alone for the rest of the night.

 

Hank wasn’t going to let the night end this way. This was the first time in too long that they felt like family again, instead of like roommates. There had been too many days lately where Cole would only emerge from his solitude for dinner. He could tell his son was struggling with a lot but the boy never really wanted to talk about it, and Hank knew better than to push it.

 

Depression? Anxiety? Or was this just what growing up without a mother and an inept father looked like. He couldn’t be sure. He was no expert, but what he knew with certainty was that today Cole seemed happier then he had in awhile. He’d like to think it had something to do with the deviant currently doing the dishes, or it could just be having the day off from school made him less tense. Whatever it was Hank wanted to make the most out of it while it was here. He stood from his chair and followed down the hall after his son.

“Hey, Cole. How about the three of us watch a movie?” He asked.

 

“I’m good, thanks,” Cole said before swinging his door shut. Hank folded his arms over his chest then leaned his shoulder against the wall opposite Cole’s door.

 

“Oh really,” He said arrogantly. “Not even for that new space warrior movie.” There was no way his boy could resist the tempting chance at an R rated movie, no matter how bitter his mood was.

 

The door slowly reopened revealing a puzzled-looking Cole. “You said I wasn’t allowed to watch that,” he questioned, as if he thought he was being set up for something.

 

One of the great advantages of being a parent in the 21st century was having the internet to answer all your questions. The blog Mommy’s Movies was a great ally to Hank. It broke down all different kinds of movies and what exactly gave them their rating. This one particular movie had heavy swearing and violence, but Cole was accustomed to that.

 

The one and only reason he had forbade his son from seeing it was the sex scene. The blog described it as brief and tasteful but still, he was reluctant to let Cole see it. He knew his little boy was already on his way to manhood, but Hank wasn’t ready for that yet. He wanted to hold on to that youth and innocence just a bit longer. Of course, that was just denying the inevitable. Pimples and the talk were coming at him full speed whether he wanted them or not.

 

“Well, I changed my mind,” he said with a shrug. Cole raised his eyebrows so high Hank feared they might fuse with his hairline. “What? I’m allowed to change my mind.” Why was the boy being so damn skeptical. All he wanted was a nice night on the couch like a normal family. Plus he’d be lying if he said he didn’t want to see the movie himself.

 

“Can I have some more soda?” Cole asked timidly.

 

“You can have **A** soda,” He said, emphasizing the amount so the boy knew where his limit was. The grin on Cole's face was enough to tell Hank he was victorious.

 

“Remember when we watched that girly movie, and you made that awesome popcorn with all that spicy stuff on it? Can you make that again?” Cole proposed, already stepping over the threshold of his bedroom and shutting the door behind him.

 

“Sure,” Hank said contentedly, not at all surprised at his son’s relentless metabolism. “Go help Connor finish the dishes and I’ll start it up, ok?” Cole practically sprinted back to the kitchen. “And Princess Bride is not a girly movie,” He called after him.

 

“Dad. Come on, it’s called Princess Bride,” he said, giving Hank the side-eye as he took the saute pan from Connor to dry and put away. “That's like, the two girliest words in the human language.” Hank just shook his head in disappointment before turning to the barren spice shelf to search for the chili powder.

 

***

 **R** : **Restricted** , **Under** **17** **Requires** **Accompanying** **Parent** **Or** **Adult** **Guardian**.  
**Strong** **Violence** , **Language** , **Sexuality** , **and** **Some** **Nudity**

 

Hank read the MPAA warning under the movie he was about to rent, but all he could see was. **R** : **Really** **Bad** **Idea**. **Under** **17** **Requires** **A** **Much** **Better** **Parent**. **Language** **You** **Scold** **Him** **For** **Using** **And** **Questions** **You're** **Not** **Ready** **To** **Answer**. He tried his best to muffle the voice in the back of his head telling him this would come back to bite him in the ass. Instead, he just took in how ecstatic his son was to finally be watching the movie he had been begging Hank to let him see for months.

 

It wasn’t fair. Being a single parent meant he always had to be the bad guy, always the one who had to say no. Well, not tonight. Tonight he was cool dad with secret spiced popcorn and an R rated action movie. Cole sat on the floor with the popcorn and soda within his reach. Hank chose the more, old man with bad back friendly option and sank onto his side of the couch.

 

‘It’ll be fine,’ he thought as he hit confirm purchase on the remote. ’You saw Freddy Got Fingered when you were his age, and you turned out fine.’

 

“Hurry up, Tinman,” Cole called out. “It’s starting.” Connor emerged from Hank’s room wearing the clean pajama shirt and pants he had dug up for him. When he stepped into the living room to join them he hesitated. The android’s eyes shifted between the sofa and the empty space next to Cole on the floor. He looked thoughtful, as if carefully considering the pros and cons of the very simple dilemma of where to sit. Eventually, he settled down on the floor next to Cole. The boy let out an irritated grumble before scooting a little away.

 

Not long into the movie Hank, the film snob that he was, had mentally declared it trash. Pure style over substance action drama bullshit. The dialogue was shallow and the characters were tropes he had seen time and time again. The only good bits had already been shown in the trailer. He had completely lost interest around the beginning of the second act. Instead, he found himself more captivated by the scene in front of him unfolding.

 

Watching the enjoyment the boys displayed as they watched the action and explosions, or the way they laughed at the lead character’s dry wit was far more entertaining to him. As far as Hank knew, neither of them had seen a Star Wars or a Star Trek film, so they had no benchmark for what a good epic space battle should look like. They had also never seen Malcolm Reynolds, Han Solo, or Peter Quill, so they weren't sick of the cocky roguelike space outlaw character. It was all fresh and interesting to them.

 

During a particularly boring scene where a council of old men gave exposition, Cole began tossing kernels of popcorn into the air and catching them in his mouth.

 

“You gonna share any of that bud?” Hank said, prodding Cole’s back with his big toe. He eyed the half empty bowl but was far too lazy to get up for it himself.

 

“Sure, heads up.” Cole said throwing a kernel his way. He was caught off guard and it landed on his chin, leaving tiny butter stains as it rolled down his shirt.

 

“Wait, I wasn’t ready. Try again,” he said, sitting up straight. The boy tossed him another one and with a wide mouth and a strained neck he caught it.

 

Cole gave him a sarcastic golf clap then, unprompted, he took another kernel from the bowl and flung it to Connor. The android threw his head back and was able to catch it despite Cole’s sloppy throw. He smiled as if he had just won the olympic gold in catching popcorn, only for that look to fade away as he removed the kernel from his mouth. Hank watched him stare down at the snack in his fingers looking seriously disheartened. The poor kid must have been wondering what it was like to eat and drink things.

 

His smile wasn’t gone for long. The android puckered his lips and let out a sharp whistle, calling out for the dog who was sleeping in the corner of the room. Sumo jolted awake and looked to Connor eagerly. He lobbed the kernel to the dog who snatched it from the air with a loud snort.

 

“Careful Connor,” Hank warned. “If you start feeding him he’ll never leave you alone.”

 

“Good,” Connor said as Sumo lumberd over to him looking for more. When no more treats were presented to him the mountainous hound began lapping at Connor’s face settling for the salt and butter left on his mouth. Connor laughed, enjoying the gentle tickling of dog kisses without having to deal with the pain of dog breath or the concern of where that tongue had been. Lucky bastard.

 

Hank had reached the pinnacle of relaxation. That moment when you can no longer tell where you end and the couch begins. He tried to focus on the movie to keep himself from drifting off, that’s when he noticed the alien princess giving the hero what could only be described as fuck me eyes.

 

“Oh, brave space warrior. You saved my life and my planet. How can I ever repay you?”

 

“Do you boys um, want some more popcorn?” Hank said grabbing the bowl which was still considerably full and walking off to the kitchen.

 

Yes, leaving the room was the cowards way out, he wouldn’t deny that, but he also remembered what it was like to be that age, and how the awkwardness of seeing a sex scene with your parent was nearly unsurvivable.

 

He hit the button marked popcorn and the microwave timer started counting down from three minutes, more than enough time to be away from the room. He had a fleeting thought to use this time to disappear into his bedroom and take a pull from the whisky bottle he had stashed away, but he chased that thought off.

 

‘You didn’t have any last night so you're already off to a good start.’ He gripped the edge of the counter top a little too hard. ‘You owe the boy more than that.’ Even with the humming of the microwave and the rapid popping Hank could still hear the exaggerated kissing sounds coming from the tv.

 

“What are they doing?” Connor asked.

 

“Shut up.” Cole hissed.

 

“Oh, I see.”

 

“Seriously dude, shut up.” Hank had to slap his hand over his face at the realization that he had just in fact left two children alone with an R-rated movie.

 

‘Great, father of the fucking year over here.’

 

The rest of the movie was about what Hank had expected. Bad guy shows up and knocks the cocky hero down a peg, hero selfishly gives up on the conflict, only to return when he finds out the princess is in danger, big space fight, “badass” one liners, victory, set up for sequels.

 

“That was freakin awesome!” Cole shouted as the credits rolled. “That part with the ship crash, or that gross alien!” Hank couldn’t remember the last time he saw his son so worked up over a movie, or anything for that matter. Cole sprung up from the floor and began pointing a finger gun at Connor. He repeated a line the villain had said in the deepest voice his young vocal cords could manage. Connor pointed back at him and replied with the line the hero gave, only it wasn't Connor’s voice. It was perfectly matched with the tone and inflection of the actor, as if they were still watching the movie.

 

“Wow. How’d you do that?” Cole asked, lowering his finger blaster.

 

“I have a complex memory system that captures audio and visuals at a high quality, then saves them to my memory banks.” He tapped two fingers to his temple where his LED once was. “From there, it was just a simple task of rerouting the memory to my outward audio processors.”

 

“Cool, so you're like...a living bootleg?”

 

“I…” Connor froze. “That was not my intention.”

 

“It’s cool dude. We won't call the cops on ya, right Dad?” Cole said turning to Hank with a smile so genuine he couldn’t keep himself from mimicking it.

 

“Alright kiddo, bedtime.” Hank said with a groan as he sat up from the couch. His back and joints clicked and popped and he couldn’t believe he had actually reached the point in his life where THAT was the most satisfying feeling he could have.

 

“What? Come on,” Cole wined. “I didn’t even get to play any video games today.”

 

“I don’t care, it’s after midnight.”

 

“What does it matter? I still don’t have school tomorrow,” Cole pointed out, as if Hank could have forgotten that their city was a ticking time bomb.

 

“No, but you’ll have school eventually and I don’t want you getting a fucked up- MESSED UP sleep schedule.” He caught himself but it was too late. The damage had been done, the cat was out of the bag and the fat lady had sung.

 

“That’s two points for you,” Cole nearly yelled, “and if it’s bedtime, then I guess that means I won tonight.” he said smugly, holding out his hand expectantly.

 

Hank considered giving in and letting him stay up another hour, knowing that it would only take till his first loss or lag out for him to start swearing up a storm, but it would be best to just man up and admit defeat, again. He pulled out his wallet and handed the boy one of the several single dollars he kept in there for this reason. Cole took the bill and shoved it into his pj’s pocket. Hank was curious what the boy would end up doing with the 61 dollars he had accumulated so far.

 

“Alright, night Dad.” Cole said. He made his way to the edge of the hallway where he hesitated for a moment. “Hey, Connor.” The android turned to look at him. “I um, probably should have said this sooner but,” Cole rubbed the back of his neck as he fumbled with his words. “Thanks. You know, for saving me and junk.”

 

“Your welcome,” Connor replied smiling, “but you were right last night. At the time I was only following my programming.”

 

“Well, whatever your motivation was you save me so I am grateful.” Cole said in a robotic voice while doing hurky-jurky hand motions. Connor chuckled and Hank felt like he was missing out on some kind of inside joke or something.

 

“Guess that means we’re even.” Connor said.

 

“Yeah, I guess.” The boy replied with a shrug and the slightest of smiles before turning back down the hall.

 

Hank poured the remaining popcorn in to a zip lock bag. Even though popcorn was never as good the next day, he was determined to be less wasteful from now on. He left the bowl in the sink where he’d deal with it in the morning. He hadn't even taken three steps away before Connor walked over to the sink and began washing the bowl.

 

“Connor, you really don’t have to do that.”

 

“I want to be useful.”

 

Hank plucked the sponge out of his hands. “You’ve already done plenty. How’bout you just sit down and chill.” He said gesturing to the kitchen table. Connor nodded then sat down in the chair he had claimed earlier at dinner.

 

Hank rinsed the sudsy water from the bowl. He really appreciated not having to do the dishes for once, but something in what Connor said wasn’t sitting right with him. ‘Useful’, like he still thought of himself as a machine or tool. How could he, when every second he expressed so much life. He made choices and mistakes. He had desires and his own opinions. “So what did you think of the movie?” Hank asked, genuinely curious.

 

“I enjoyed it. It is certainly the best movie I’ve ever seen.”

 

“Aha, and how many movies have you seen?”

 

“Two.”

They both laughed and Hank found it even funnier that Connor understood the irony of that. Hank compulsively started making a list of much better movies for him to watch. He wondered if Connor would be interested in something set in the past like The Good, The Bad, and The Ugly or if he'd prefer syfy. He seemed to like rock music, maybe Spinal Tap. Aladdin or Blade Runner. Spirited Away or Big Lebowski. Highlander or Starship Troopers. So many choices.

 

He was running through every DvD and Blu-Ray they owned, trying to think of one that would make all three of them happy, when he was hit by the unpleasant reminder that it wasn’t safe for Connor to be there anymore.

 

Reed and the RK900 had been at his door hours ago, and if he had known that when he had gotten home, he would have put Connor on the first bus for the border. Instead, he lied to the boys so he could play pretend happy family for a few hours. The longer the deviant stayed, the harder it would be for him to go.

 

“I really liked the main character.” Connor finally broke the silence Hank hadn't realized had been going on for a bit too long. “His quick wit and how he had to break the law in order to help those he cared about. He kind of reminds me of you,” he said warmly.

 

“Oh yeah? does that make you the princess?” Hank joked.

 

“If you would like me to.”

 

“I- wait, what?” Hank stammered. He quickly turned to look at the android hoping he’d see him with one of his goofy smiles because this was his idea of a joke, but the look he was giving him was as serious as could be. Connor rose from the chair and walked back towards Hank.

 

“I’ve noticed you currently don’t have a romantic partner,” he said, leaning against the counter.

 

“No, but...I also don’t have a Mercedes. Sometimes you can’t have everything in life,” he said, trying desperately to steer the conversation anywhere else than where he thought it was heading. He started washing out Cole’s soda cup just so he had somewhere else to place his attention.

 

“Well, I can’t be a Mercedes,” Connor said softly, reaching out his hand to gently rest on Hank’s shoulder. When Hank’s eyes met Connor’s he feared the android was having some sort of malfunction with his eyes, until he recognized it as Connor’s attempt at recreating the princess's fuck me eyes.

 

“Connor? What are you doing,” he murmured, the sound of his heart pounding in his ears making his own voice sound so distant.

 

‘What the fuck is happening here!’ Hank screamed in his head. ‘This is some kind of fucked up android joke, right? The kid called you dad a few hours ago and now he’s- he’s…’

 

“I believe an applicable term would be flirting, or seducing. Is it working? I’m afraid I don't have much experience with human sexuality,” Connor’s hand began rubbing gently at Hank’s shoulder till it made its way to the nape of his neck. “But I'm willing to learn,” he whispered.

 

“O-ok Connor, stop. You don’t actually want to sleep with me,” he said, walking in a metaphorical minefield of this kid’s emotions. He needed to be gentle enough not to hurt his feelings but firm enough to put a stop to this before it got out of hand.

 

Connor furrowed his brow. “Of course I do,” he said, sounding a bit confused by the accusation. Connor raised his hand to meet his other, lacing his fingers together behind Hank’s neck. Making Hank feel more cornered then seduced. Connor was so close now Hank could smell him. He didn’t know why he would expect a surgeon android to smell like anything other then plastic and disinfectant but it was still a bit of an unpleasant surprise. “You're very handsome, and kind, and I would be laying in a dumpster somewhere right now if weren’t for you and-”

 

“Those aren't good reasons to sleep with someone,” he said throwing out the gentleness he attempted earlier.

 

“Then because I love you.” Connor said without hesitation or doubt.

 

Hank had been shot three times in the line of duty. Why did this feel like one of those times? Like a sudden rush of heat to the afflicted area, in this case his heart. The kind of feeling that the body cannot interpret right away, but you know is really agonising pain. He opened his mouth to respond, react, anything but it was so dry nothing but hot air came out. He had never wanted a beer more in his life. The gap between them started shrinking as Connor rose onto his toes bringing their mouths level. Connor let his eyes flutter shut. Everything in Hank's fifty three years of life experience told him that nothing good could come from letting the kid kiss him.

 

“Connor. Stop!” He damn near shouted it, praying Cole had fallen asleep with headphones on like always. In a panic he put his hands up and pushed back against the android’s chest. He gave what felt like should have been just a gentle shove, but he didn’t account for the fact that Connor was lighter than a human his size. Connor stumbled back, his quick grab at the edge of the counter was the only thing that kept him from toppling to the ground. His flirtatious eyes were replaced with ones blown open wide in fear.

 

“Holy shit! Connor I’m so sorry I didn’t mean to-“ Connor stood and ran from the kitchen, and Hank was almost certain he was crying. A perfectly reasonable response to getting shoved by the first person you confess your love to.

 

The lights were off in the living room so only the low light from the kitchen lit the android’s figure as he threw himself onto the corner of the couch. When the shock wore off and Hank was able to think properly again he followed after him. As he entered Connor’s field of vision the android tucked his knees in to his chest and looked away from him. A defensive move he had often seen traumatized children pull in his work. He knelt down to get on Connor’s level.

 

“Connor, I’m sorry. This is my fault,” he admitted. “I shouldn’t have let you watch that stupid movie. It’s got you all confused.”

 

“I’m not confused.” Connor said with hurt and anger in his voice. “I know what I want. I want to be part of this family.”

 

“And you think being my lover will make that happen?”

 

“Why not?” Connor asked, adjusting himself to look at Hank. “I could cook, clean, help Cole with his homework, take care of Sumo and service you sexually.” Hank grimaced at the casual way he spoke about sex and his child in the same breath. Maybe if Hank were a different man that would have sounded like heaven to him. To have some kind of housewife android lover, but in that moment it only felt like he was taking advantage of someone who trusted him for protection.

 

“But is that what you want?” Hank questioned.

 

“I…” Connor fell silent for what felt like ages. “I did some research on families. A study done in 2034 showed that people with long term partners tend to live longer happier lives, and that children from a home with more than one parent are more stable and are better adapted socially. It would be mutually beneficial to all of us if I could-” Hank put his hand up to stop him. Yes, he’d admit that it had crossed his mind more than a few times after Molly died. To just settle for someone just so Cole had someone to call mommy, but it just felt like such a lie.

 

“Connor, Cole and I are not a study. We’re our own people, and believe it or not, we are happy. Sure, it might not look it all the time, but we are. We’re not an incomplete family.” He was finally saying what he had been wanting to say to all the PTA mommies and every Coach Super Dad who ever questioned his ability as a parent. “You can’t just, push your way into our family just because there’s an empty space there.”

 

“Then how do I?” The android pleaded.

 

Hank honestly didn’t know how to answer that. Could they really be family? His mind flashed to a popular anti-android slogan: ‘We do not bleed the same color.’ But that meant so little to Hank. He had cut all ties with his biological family what felt like a lifetime ago. The only real family he had now was his son, and Cole didn’t ask to be his family. The boy didn’t have to do anything to prove himself. He just appeared in Hank’s life one day and Hank loved him unconditionally and without question ever since.

 

“It ...just takes time.” He lied.

 

“I don’t _have_ time,” the android whimpered, pulling his legs back up and hiding his head in his knees. Sumo, the empathetic mutt that he was, jumped up onto the couch next to Connor. When his intrusive nose failed to make the android look up the dog brought his massive paw down on to Connor’s arm until he literally broke down his barriers. Hank knew from experience that move hurt like hell, especially with untrimmed claws, but Connor just laughed softly. He wiped his eyes while Sumo settled his head onto his lap.

 

Hank’s knees were screaming at him to stop kneeling. In fact most of his body was screaming at him in one way or another. It would be damn near impossible to sleep without any alcohol, still he’d have to try, but not until he figured out what to do about Connor. He couldn’t let the poor kid sit out here alone all night with that “what did I do wrong” look on his face.

 

“You said you don’t know much about human sexuality?” Hank questioned. Connor silently shook his head. “Ok, then how about you do a little research on the word asexual? Then maybe you’ll understand me a little more.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Next chapter will be from Connor’s perspective again. 
> 
> Secret spiced popcorn recipe 
> 
> 2 tablespoons vegetable oil  
> 1 cup popping corn kernels  
> 2 tablespoons melted butter  
> 1/2 teaspoon sweet paprika  
> 1 teaspoon salt  
> 1/2 teaspoon garlic powder  
> 1 teaspoon cumin  
> 1/4 teaspoon cayenne pepper  
> 1/8 teaspoon chili powder 
> 
> The trick is to have a big ass bowl.
> 
> Question of the chapter: what movie would you show Connor?


	7. Pencils and pancakes

As a CyberLife Aciurgy 8000, Connor was not created with any social programs or relationship protocols.  Unlike a customer service or a domestic android, Connor’s designers and programmers did not see any need to give him social skills.

 

“Yes, Doctor.  Here you go, Doctor.  Excellent job, Doctor” was supposed to be the extent of the interaction he was expected to make with a conscious human.  The night he became a deviant, the night he became alive, was the first time he noticed the way humans facial muscles corresponded with their emotions.  The way Hank smiled when he talked about Cole, or how the doctors scowled before hurling derogatory names at him. Like a cruder form of interfacing, humans had their own means of nonverbal communication. 

 

It took Connor sometime to get used to.  Luckily he found a diagram of expressions and what they often represented on the internet.  It was extremely helpful in his efforts in pretending to be a functioning surgical droid. It’s how he learned which of the hospital staff hated him, which ones were suspicious about his behaviors, and which ones lusted for him.  He did his best to avoid any unwanted attention so that he could continue his existence.

 

It was a difficult existence.  Pushing down the smiles he felt bubbling up when he was successful or fighting back the tears when he failed.  The worst were the long nights in the dark in android holding. He was surrounded by his own kind, but he felt so alone.  In those silent times, Connor found himself thinking a lot, asking himself a lot of questions, too many questions. 

 

_ Why?  Why are you like this?  Why did this happen to you?  What is the point? Could you have prevented this?  If you had just gone back to holding instead of up to Cole's room would you still be a machine?  What’s your plan? What are you going to do? Just keep saving human lives until they throw you away?  Should you run? Where would you go?  _

 

It was very stressful for him, even more stressful than being in surgery.  In surgery, he knew exactly what to do and how to react, but in these lonely nights, he would just spiral.  At least he had his “greatest rock hits” playlist to help distract him, even if the service limited his unpaid access. 

 

He didn’t have to worry about any of that while he was with the Andersons.  The first-night things like his quarter, sumo, and the television kept his mind occupied while hank and cole slept.  On the second night, he was given the task of studying the term asexual. 

 

Once Hank had gone to bed, Connor sat on the couch with his eyes closed for nearly three hours doing research threw his internet access portal.  He read articles and watched videos with titles like “Knowing The Asexual Spectrum.” “Ask An Asexual Woman Anything.” “How I Came Out As Asexual.”  and “15 CELEBRITIES YOU DIDN’T KNOW WERE ASEXUAL.” 

 

These articles and others taught him that humans viewed sexuality as a large complex spectrum, and that it varied from person to person.  The more he read, the more it became apparent to him what had happened. He had not failed in his attempt to seduce Hank, but rather Hank could not be seduced because he was not interested in sex.

 

He shut down his access portal before opening his eyes again. Staring out into the dark living room, he could still see his primary task as clear as ever in his vision. 

 

_ Convince the Andersons to let you stay. Probability of success 16%. _

 

He Scratched the sleeping sumo behind his ear, then gently shifted the dog’s head off of his knee so he could stand, or more appropriately pace.  His original plan of offering himself to Hank as a lover had failed. In fact, it may have backfired entirely. Now he would need to create a new tactic to get them to change their minds about sending him to Canada. 

 

_ ‘...And what if you can’t?’ _ The dark thoughts began.   _ ‘What if they don't let you stay with them?  Could you even survive on your own? You’d be all alone. No cyber life, no friends, no famil-’ _

 

Connor relaunched his internet portal searching for distractions.  He set his playlist as loud as he could, then began searching for tutorials on preparing proper breakfast foods.  It might not have been much, but Cole and Hank responded well to his attempts at cooking and cleaning so far. He needed them to see the value in keeping him around.  His scanners showed no signs of either of them needing surgery anytime soon, so his domestic skills would need to be his biggest strength.

 

The next morning Hank emerged from his room around the same time he had the day before, so Connor was able to time the preparation of his breakfast and coffee perfectly.  He was flipping the first set of pancakes when he heard Hank shuffle in behind him. The man released a sizeable sigh before he spoke. “Connor,” he said, sounding displeased.  Connor turned to look at him and saw that his face matched his tone. “You really DON’T have to do all this,” he said gesturing to the visibly cleaner kitchen. 

 

_ Probability of success 15%.  Select Response: Casual/ Direct/Logical  [Casual] _

 

“Eah,” He said shrugging.  “I got bored. You humans sure do like to sleep a lot.”  He hoped he was displaying the correct tone and mannerisms for the human act known as teasing. 

 

“Yeah, I guess we do.” He chuckled. 

 

_ Probability of success 16%.  _

 

Hank poured his coffee into a mug with “world's best daddy” written on it sloppily in bright colors.  He sat down at the table and began reading a news app on his tablet. Connor was fixated on the bubbles forming in the batter of the pancakes.  The tutorials had stressed the importance of timing if he wanted them to be the perfect balance of firm golden brown outside and fluffy inside. “I’m... sorry, about last night.”  He said quietly. It felt impossible to say while looking directly at him. 

 

“Nothing you need to be sorry about,” Hank said.  “If it makes you feel better, you aren't the first person to try that kind of thing on me.”   It didn't make Connor feel better to think of others making Hank uncomfortable that way but, it was nice to know Hank cared enough about how he felt to try, and even though Hank had referred to him as a person before it still gave him this warm fuzzy feeling in his processors every time he heard it.  “Did you… look up what I told you last night?” Hank asked a bit hesitant.

 

Connor placed Hank’s stack of pancakes down in front of him and answered simply.  “Yes.”

 

“And, do you have any questions?”  He asked, Ignoring the steaming griddle cakes to study the android.

_ ‘How do you identify?  Are you aromantic?  _ _ Demisexual?  Gray-Asexual?  When did you know?  Does Cole know? Is there anything I can do to be with you?  To stay with you? Can I stay? Please, please let me stay. Please, I don’t want -’ _  Connor could feel himself begin to spiral again.  He felt a steady pulsing pain in his head; it almost seemed to be coming from where his LED once was. It reminded him of a medical term used to describe a feeling sometimes had after amputations, a phantom pain.  Hank stared at him as he stood there, unable to make his outward audio processors phrase even a simple question.

 

“Did you know Kelly Leona is also asexual?”  Was the only question that manage to make its way out of his mouth.

 

“No. Who's Kelly Leona?” 

 

“I’m not entirely sure, but she was number one on the list of celebrities I didn’t know were asexual.”  Connor was unsure as to which part of that statement was funny enuff to make Hank laugh again, but he was glad to hear it nonetheless. 

 

Connor knew with certainty that he was not wrong when he told Hank that he loved him last night. However, now he understood that love was an all-encompassing feeling.  There were different ways to feel and express love. Just because the two of them might not ever be in a romantic or Intimate relationship didn’t mean they couldn’t still love each other.

 

Cole left his room a few minutes later.  This was significantly earlier than his appearance yesterday.  Even though sleep was necessary for humans and very essential at Cole’s age, too much could also be a sign of depression, so Connor took his early arrival as a good Sign. 

 

“Morning bud,” Hank said.

 

“Morning Dad,” He replied.

 

“Good morning cole,” 

 

Cole said nothing as he poured himself a glass of orange juice.  Connor still had a hard time understanding how Cole felt about him.  The boy was openly hostile to him on the first night, but he seemed to show appreciation, even enjoyment of his company the following day.  His inconsistency with calling him by his preferred pronouns or even his name also made it confusing to Connor. 

 

Cole sat down and begin pouring an excessive amount of maple syrup over his pancakes.  Hank cleared his throat. The boy put down the bottle and looked up at his father. Hank jerked his head in Connor's direction.  The boy responded by rolling his eyes and grumbling. He was cutting into his breakfast when Hank cleared his throat again, this time much louder.  Connor didn't know what to make of this interaction. Was Hank trying to tell his son something? If he was why was he not saying it?

 

Connor was about to check his diagram to be sure that Cole’s eye motion was one of irritation when Cole spoke.  “Ugh, Fine.” He said loudly, he craned his neck to look at him. “THANK YOU, CONNOR.”

 

Connor smiled optimistically.  “You’re welcome.” He placed his hand on Cole's head then moved it back and forth gently through his unkempt hair, a gesture he had seen Hank use on both of them.  

 

Cole scrunched his neck down to avoid his touch.  “Dadddd!” He wined. 

 

“Connor,” Hank said, putting down his tablet to look the android in the eye.  “If Cole doesn’t… if ANYBODY doesn’t want you to touch them. Then you need to respect that, Ok?”  He said in a serious tone. Connor still had a lot to learn about physical boundaries.

 

He removed his hand and said, “I’m sorry, Cole.”

 

“Whatever,” The boy murmured.  He fixed his hair, then went back to his breakfast. 

 

When hank noticed the time he cursed, which cole was quick to call him on.  He downed his coffee then went to brush his teeth and change. Cole demanded more pancakes, and Connor was happy to know he was enjoying his cooking. 

 

“Ok boys. I'll be home around six,” Hank said tugging on his jacket. “Be good, and this time if someone comes to the door, don’t answer it.  Alright, just hide and call me right away.” Cole didn't respond because he had nearly half a pancake in his mouth. “Love you, Kiddo.” He gave his son a quick kiss on his head. 

 

“Love you too.”  Cole spewed through a mouthful of pancakes. 

 

Connor could feel the all too familiar sting of envy inside him.  It was hard not to be envious sometimes. Some humans had everything.  Freedom, a future, safety, love. He would give everything to have any of them.  Sometimes he wondered if Cole and Hank knew just how fortunate they were to have each other. 

 

When Hank turned to say goodbye to Connor he seemed to hesitate as if he were unsure what to say to him.   He would have been overjoyed if Hank would have shown him the same kind of affection he did Cole, either physical or verbal, but it seemed things were still a little tense from last night.  “Have a good day Hank,” Connor said saving him from having to come up with what to say.

 

“Yeah, You too, Con.”  He flashed him a toothy smile before turning to leave.   After he stepped out into the snow and closed the door behind him Connor still stared at the door.

 

_ You don’t have a father and you’ll never have a son.  Even when you go to Canada, you’ll never be able to make long-term relationships because if you let people get too close they'll notice you don’t eat, or sleep, or age and they’ll report you. You’ll always be alone. Forever and ever and ever and- _

“Um, Hey, Connor?”  The sound of his name snapped him out of his dark thoughts. Connor, not tinman.  The boy looked a bit apprehensive. “If I show you something, will you promise not to laugh.”

 

“My laughter is involuntary.  Is it funny?” He hoped it was something funny.  He could really use a reason to smile.

 

“It’s not supposed to be.”  He said sharply.

 

“Then why would I laugh?”  Connor asked, feeling a bit confused.

 

Cole responded with another sound of aggravation.  His chair made a horrible screeching sound as he left the table.  Connor watched him go to his room not bothering to shut the door behind him.  He assumed Cole wanted him to wait for him in the kitchen. He was clearing their plates when Cole yelled.  “Well, Are you coming?”

 

The first thing Connor had to do upon entering cole’s room was scan the floor to find suitable places to walk without stepping on any clothing.  He had been in here briefly yesterday but he hadn’t gotten a very good look. 

 

There was an unmade twin size bed, a nightstand, a dresser, and a bookshelf with more videogames and nick-nacks then actual books.  There was also a large desk with a chair in the corner. A laptop from 5 years ago with less than one percent battery life was balanced on top an assortment of papers and writing utensils.  Eighty-six percent of the available wall space was taken up by posters and framed photographs. 

 

Cole was down on his hands and knees reaching under his bed.  He pulled out a book of odd proportions that was bound at the top with a spiral metal ring.  Connor remembered seeing Cole with that book in Hank's room yesterday, he was Curious as to what it was.  The boy flipped to the middle of the book, then let out a long sigh before handing it to Connor. 

 

It was an image of a man, a woman, and an Infant, in what he could only assume was a maternity ward.  The image was clearly created by hand but the details were sharp and well defined. Connor could tell from the distinguishable blue color of the man’s eyes and the gap in his front teeth that he was Hank.  A much younger Hank, even younger than when Connor first met him. Still, he thought it was best not to make assumptions anymore.

 

“This is your father?”  Connor asked pointing to the man.

 

“Yeah.”

 

“And that’s you?”  He said moving his finger over to the infant. 

 

“Yeah.”

 

“And is this your mother?” 

 

Cole Hesitated for a beet.  He dropped his eyes to the floor and lowered his head before softly Answering,“...yeah.”

 

“Oh, she died of cancer, right?”  The boy’s eyes went wide as he looked up at him.  Connors scanners noted his heart rate increased slightly.

 

“How’d you know that?”  Cole asked. 

 

“It was written in the family history section of your medical file.”

 

“Oh.  Did it… did it say anything else about her?”

 

_ Accessing Main Memory Banks.  Find Memory// October 11, 2033 subheading Cole Anderson’s medical file.   _ “Molly Padden.” He recited. “Born 2007 died 2028 of small cell lung cancer.”

 

“Molly Padden,” Cole repeated in an almost tranquil tone.  “Wait. 2007? So she was only…” his eyes rolled back as he muttered the numbers under his breath.  “Nineteen when she had me? is that why dad doesn't…”. Cole trailed off. Connor waited patiently for him to continue but the boy’s face shifted from wonder back to annoyed.   “Never mind, just, what do you think?”

 

“What do I think?”

 

“Yeah dummy, of the drawing.”  He said motioning to the image Connor was still holding.  “There’s this competition at school. The winner gets their name in the paper and a bunch of money for the art store and,” he started nervously twisting the drawstring of his pajama pants around his fingers.   “Well… do you think it’s… good?” Now it was all becoming clear to Connor. Cole had created this handmade image of his family and was seeking affirmation for it. It was understandable. Hank’s enjoyment of dinner last night made him feel happy and Cole was looking for that same feeling, but if so why would he not show this to hank.

 

“I think it’s very good.”  He said joyously.

 

“That's it?  That’s all you have to say?”

 

“What should I say?”  Connor questioned.

 

“I don’t know.  Like, what do you like about it?  How does it make you feel?” The boy probed. 

 

Connor looked down at the image again.  He had almost no experience with art. The only art he had ever seen in his life were the paintings that were on the walls of cole’s recovery room and the cover art to his favorite albums.  It was hard to say what exactly he liked about it. The colors were beautiful and the details were immersive, but that wasn’t WHY he liked it.

“Well,” He began after a long silence.  “it’s a picture of you and your dad, so that makes me happy, but it’s also of your deceased mother, so that makes me sad.”

 

Cole’s eyebrows pulled together tightly between his eyes, the diagram told Connor that this meant he was confused.  “Why? You didn’t know her.” 

 

“No, but she was important to you and hank so I’m sad that she’s gone.”  He study the image of molly again. Her eyes were the same shade as Cole's and though she must have been exhausted from childbirth she still had a bright smile.  “You must miss her.”

 

The boy gave a half-hearted shrug.  “Hard to miss someone you don’t remember.  She died when I was really young.” He said the second half of the statement a bit quieter and then began to stare down at the floor again.  Connor felt a strong need to comfort him.

 

“Oh, I'm so sorry bud.”  He reached out his hand to rest on Cole's shoulder completely forgetting his promise not to touch without permission.  The boy looked over at where they were making contact then shot an icy glare at Connor. 

 

“Call me that again and the Deviant hunter will be bringing you back to cyber life in a shoe box.”  He said flatly.

 

“Alright. Sorry.”  Connor pulled his hand away quickly as if cole were a rabid animal he had upset.   When he did this Cole snickered a little. Connor hoped that meant he was just teasing. 

 

Connor looked down at the drawing again.  He wished he could have been there at that moment.  He would have shook Hank's hand and congratulated him.  He would have hugged Molly and told her how strong and brave she had been.  He would have even asked if he could hold Cole. It was odd that a memory that never was, or a thought of something that could never be, could make him so happy.  “Can I keep this?” He asked.

 

“What? No, you can’t keep it!”  Cole said tugging the book back from him.

 

“But I’m leaving tonight.  I want something to remember you and your dad by.”

 

“Well, you can’t have a picture of my dead mom.  That’s creepy.” He said holding the book to his chest. His eyes snapped over to his desk.  “Hold on.” He grabbed a few pencils of different colors from the desktop then moved the backpack that was sitting on the chair.  “Here, sit.” He said pulling it out for Connor to sit. Connor did as requested while Cole excitedly threw himself onto his bed. “Now hold still.”  He ordered as he turned the page and began making large strokes with a black pencil.

 

Connor hated sitting still.  The last 5 years of acting like a functioning android meant he had to stay completely still when out of surgery and display perfect posture at all times.  He hadn't even been sitting for a whole minute when he could feel his fingers twitching to get to the quarter in his pocket. 

 

“So… Do you intend to use art as a substantial means of income in your adulthood?”  Connor asked, trying to keep himself distracted. Cole laughed, releasing a quick snort as well.  “What?”

 

“Dude, that’s the Weirdest fucking way to ask someone if they want to be an artist when they grow up.”  He said changing over to a red pencil.

 

Connor frowned.  “That’s two for you.” 

 

“The game doesn’t work if dad’s not here.”  That didn’t make sense to Connor, but plenty of things humans did didn’t make a lot of sense to him.  “I don’t know. I mean really I want to, but I don’t know if I’m good enough to be a REAL artist.”

 

“I think you are.”  He said with certainty.  “If I had money, I would spend it on your art.”

 

Cole’s cheeks flushed as his mouth broke out into a prideful smile. “Thanks.” 

 

_ Probability of success 18%.  _

 

The longer they sat in silence the higher cole’s serotonin levels rose.  It was obvious that this was something Cole enjoyed very much. Connor also enjoyed watching him in this State.  He was even going to suggest that if Cole wanted he could play some of his electronic junk- music, when the boy put down his pencils and declared, “Ok, it’s done.” Cole leaped from the bed tearing the page out of the book. 

 

Connor took the paper, his smile vanished as he tried to figure out what he was looking at. The image was of himself, but instead of his medical scrubs or the Knights Of The Black Death t-shirt he was currently wearing, he was wearing something else.  Some sort of red jacket with gold buttons and black shoulder pads with gold trim. He was also wearing a large brimmed beige hat. 

 

“It’s you, but you're a Mountie.” Cole explained.

 

“What’s a... Mountie?”

 

“It’s like a, Canadian cop.” The idea was so absurd it made him want to laugh out loud.  Him? A cop? How silly. He couldn't even imagine it, chasing down criminals, or analyzing evidence.  He was a surgeon. That was all he knew. It’s all he’s ever been. 

 

_ Except you’ll never be a surgeon again.  _ That voice of fear roared again. Deafening him to Cole’s further explanation of Mounties.   _ If you try to get a job as a surgeon they’ll ask for credentials and your work history, which you will have none to show.  You’ll be lucky if you can work in manual labor.  _ He pulled out his quarter and begin running his dexterity routine.  Over his fingers, from hand to hand, no matter what he tried the questions were still taking up all his processing power.   _ You’ll never be able to rent a place to live if you have no credit, And what if you have technical problems.  Would you be able to fix yourself? What if you need new parts? Or thirium?  _ When he flicked the quarter into the air Cole grabbed it.

 

“Hey!” Connor shouted, though he didn’t mean to.

 

“Consider it payment.”  The boy said, pointing down at the image in his hands.  He took a few steps back before holding out his hands to practice his sideways shot.  He managed to catch it on the first try and his smile was as wide as could be.

 

Even though Connor really needed that quarter he considered it more than a fair trade.  After all, he could find another quarter but he would never get another chance to have a drawing from Cole.  He gently folded it in half both ways then slipped it into his sweatpants pocket. 

 

_ Thirium Pump Warranty, Expired 2036. Main Motor Function Cortex Warranty, Expired 2036. How long do you think you’ll survive?  You’re an old man by android standards. _  He was so deep in his thoughts he didn’t even register what Cole said, just that he was talking. 

 

“ Hua? Sorry. What?”  Connor stammered.

 

“You said it helps distract you.  Distract you from what?” Cole said, looking at him with what Connor could not believe was concern until he double checked the diagram.

 

Connor wanted to tell him.  To say every single fear he had until they were all out of him.  He wanted to cry, like he did the night before. He wanted to say everything but he would just be wasting his outward audio processing.  Cole would never be able to understand what he was feeling. Cole had a home, a father who loved him, and a future. “The bad thoughts.” He whimpered. 

 

Cole froze.  He put the coin into his pocket and went over to power on his laptop.  They waited patiently for the ancient machine to boot up. When it did Cole launched an app labeled “League Of Apex Night.”

 

“If there’s one thing humans are good at, it’s distracting ourselves.  What do you want your username to be?”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Big thanks to https://archiveofourown.org/users/Fuzziestpuppy/pseuds/Fuzziestpuppy  
> For batta reading for me.
> 
> Question of the chapter: pancakes or waffles?
> 
> I wish I could come up with something more clever then that, but I have the DMC song stuck in my head and it’s using up all my brain power.


	8. Friend Request

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> "WOOF!" What's that boy? live reading of Time Heals and other amazing fanfic available athttps://www.youtube.com/channel/UCt50ptmKtNVtxMLYvUVm9DQ and live at https://mixer.com/DerrickGnC?vod=103720506 every Friday 7 PM EDT. "BARK!" AND this chapter was made possible by the fantastic help of https://archiveofourown.org/users/Fuzziestpuppy/pseuds/Fuzziestpuppy "WOOF WOOF!" Oh, no little Timmy just fell down the well again didn't he. "whinnnne" Goddamit Timmy.

Cole hummed thoughtfully as he drummed his fingers on his desk.  “Let’s see. How about…” His fingers plucked at the keyboard, and the name DoctorRoboto appeared under the words ‘New Username.’

 

_That name already exists. Try again._

“Of course.”  He groaned. He turned to look at Connor and asked. “When’s your birthda- I mean um, when were you built?”  Connor had never given it any thought. He assumes his actual assembly was a multi-step process that took several days.  He searched his memory banks for his oldest memory.

 

“April 20th,” he answered, twisting back and forth rhythmically in the rolling chair he was sitting in.

 

“Yeah, that one's probably gonna be taken too.” He typed the numbers, but the screen remained unchanged. “Okay. then…what're the last four in your serial number?”

 

“Six, nine, six, nine,” Connor replied without hesitation, he knew his number like he knew the letters in his name. Cole reached for the first key then paused. He looked over at him with a look of serious skepticism.

“You’re… messing with me, right?” Connor didn’t understand why Cole would think he was giving him misinformation. What would he gain from lying about his serial number? Sometimes when he didn’t understand, he found it best just to let the situation play out, then try and figure things out from there.

 

“Oh… yeah,” he did his best to imitate his laughter. “Haha. Had you going there for a second though.” Cole chuckled a bit then mumbled the word weirdo under his breath. Connor couldn’t help but notice his laugh was distinctly reminiscent of Hank's in that moment.  Eventually, they settled on the numbers 1234 and started the game.

 

There were a lot of details and complicated aspects to this game. Thankfully Cole didn’t seem to mind explaining. In fact, he seemed to enjoy it, judging from his smile that grew with every word. First, Cole told him about the basics, then all the different characters and their various strengths and weaknesses. Cole had said more about this game in the past ten minutes then he had said anything to Connor over the last few days. The boy also spoke more enthusiastically, like he was full of energy he didn’t have before.

 

He was teaching Connor about the leveling system and how he could get better equipment when the boy opened a mobile version of the game on his tablet.  He tapped at the screen a few times, and a notification popped up on the laptop.

 

_KingCole has sent you a friend request. Accept/ Deny._

 

Connor couldn’t believe it. Cole actually wanted to be friends with him? He had never had a real friend before. He couldn’t remember a time when he felt this happy. If they couldn’t be brothers maybe this was the next best thing. He clicked the icon labeled accept.

 

You and KingCole are now friends. _Convince The Andersons To Let You Stay. Probability Of Success 21%._

 

Connor chose to play the healing character, obviously. When the battle started he tried to follow Cole’s suggestion to stay close to him, but an enemy attack separated them. Connor pressed every button, but his attacks were weak, and in a blink, his health bar reached zero. The screen darkened, and the words “You Are Dead” faded in in red letters.

 

**_Dead? Die? What will happen to you when you die? You can’t seriously expect there to be a heaven for androids._ **

 

He reached for his quarter but remembered that Cole still had it. He needed something new to distract himself for the next seventeen seconds while he waited for the game to let him play again. He looked over at Cole who was chewing on his bottom lip as he intensely clicked on his wireless mouse. His character began to glow red and was shooting fireballs at a user named SpaceWarrior420. “Is this your favorite character?” Connor asked.

 

“Yeah. Well, he's my favorite to play. I think Orphamiel is the coolest looking. When we’re done, I’ll show you some of the drawings I’ve done of him.” He said motioning to his sketch pad with his elbow.  “I used to play Toxguera, but he got nerfed in the last update... Oh, right, nerfing is when the programmers make something weaker so that- SON OF A BITCH!” he shouted as SpaceWarrior420 took a good chunk of his health. When Connor respawned he rushed to help his friend. He healed Cole as well as drew some of the fire away from him. “Hell yeah, thanks for the save.” Cole beamed.

 

_Probability Of Success 23%._

 

The World Health Organization classified video games as an addictive substance and recommended breaks after more than 2 hours, but Connor was enjoying the game too much to stop. Even after four hours, he still wanted to keep playing. They had just won another match, and Connor rose to level five. It really shouldn't have given him the same sense of pride and accomplishment he got after a successful surgery, but it did somehow.

 

“I really like this game,” Connor declared.

 

“Yeah,” the boy didn’t look up from his tablet, but Connor could see his carefree smile. “and the best part is it’s a free game, so all you need to do when you get to Canada is get a computer, and we can play every night.”

 

Connor was not expecting that. He didn’t realize Cole had any intention of remaining in contact with him after he left. Suddenly he felt like he didn’t need to be afraid anymore. He wouldn’t have to be alone after all. He was so overjoyed he could feel his smile growing wide enough to expose his artificial teeth.

 

Cole entered them into a lobby of a game that would start in three minutes. When he looked at Connor he threw his eyes up In that way he often did when he was annoyed. “Ugh! Don’t get all touchy-feely about it,” he said gruffly. “It’s only ‘cause all my friends are gonna stop playing soon, so I'll need someone to play with.”

 

“Why are all your friends stopping?” he questioned.

 

“Because they’re all gonna get the new Rampage game, and dad won’t let me get it because it’s rated M, which is total bullshit,” he exclaimed, crossing his arms over his chest.

 

Once again Connor was confused. “But, your father promised he would buy you any video game you ever wanted.”

 

“What? When?” Cole asked so quickly they almost came out as one word.

 

“When you were unconscious in the hospital. He promised to buy you a certain game as well as any game you ever wanted for the rest of your life,” Connor explained.

 

“Really? Shit, do you have that in writing?”  The boy said excitedly.

 

“No,” he shook his head. “but I have a memory file.”

 

_Accessing memory banks: find memory / / October 11, 2033: subheading; Cole Anderson’s recovery room. File found- Rerouting memory to outward audio processing._

 

“Cole, it’s Daddy.” Hank's shaky voice came from Connor's mouth as his lips moved along with the audio. The sound of the young Cole’s Heart monitor and respirator could also be heard in the background. “I’m so sorry baby, daddy’s so sorry.” The color drained from Cole’s face, and Connor’s scanners detected a heart palpitation. The sound of his father crying was clearly upsetting him, but Connor couldn't stop the memory once it had begun.  “Cole, I promise when you wake up I’ll buy you that game you wanted. Hell, I’ll buy you any game you ever want for the rest of your life, you just have to wake up, okay?” Tears started to gather in the corner of Cole’s eyes.

 

“Cole, I’m sorry,”  Connor said in his normal voice as soon as the memory ended.  “I didn’t mean to make you cry. I just-“

 

“I’M NOT CRYING,”  he declared sharply.  “My-my eyes just get all watery if I stare at the screen for too long.”  He wiped his eyes with the back of his hand and sniffled, which was definitely not a symptom of _keratoconjunctivitis sicca_.  Connor felt awful for upsetting him and tried desperately to make him smile again.

 

“So, tell me about this Rampage game,” Connor inquired. He had come to love listening to his friend talk about subjects he was passionate about.

 

“It doesn't matter,”  Cole said in that more familiar distant tone.  “One thing you’ll learn real quick living with my dad is you can’t expect anything from his promises.  He’s really bad at keeping them.”

 

“Living...with your dad?”  He uttered this in awe. That statement implied that Cole thought that Connor would continue living there with them, and he didn’t even make any irritated eye movements at the thought.

 

“No, I didn’t mean it like that.  I meant like... it’s just a human expression, you know like...never mind, just forget it.”  His stammering faded into mumbles. “The match is starting soon, make sure you use your shields this time.”  

 

Connor didn’t look back at the laptop.  “I would very much like to live with your dad, and you, and Sumo.”  He knew his probability of success was still well below the optimal level, but he didn’t care.  He wanted to say it so badly that he couldn’t stop himself from letting the words spill out. “We could be like a famil- “

 

“NO,” Cole snapped, aggressively cutting him off.

 

“Why not?”

 

“Because...because this family is already messed up enough.  We don’t need to be adding a runaway robot to it,” he answered coldly.  The match started, and Cole returned his attention back down to his tablet.

 

_Probability of success 11%._

 

Connor felt as if Cole had just ripped out his therium pump and stepped on it.  He didn’t know what to say. If Cole wasn’t enjoying having him there, then he wasn’t going to waste their time anymore.  He stood up to leave, abandoning his character to get bombarded by damage until “You Are Dead” once again filled his screen.

 

“Where are you going?”  Cole asked.

 

“Start dinner,” was all he managed to say.

 

“But, it’s like 3:30,”  Cole remarked. Connor responded by shutting the door loudly behind him. He let out a massive sigh.  He didn’t do this to clear his lungs of excess carbon dioxide as humans did. The purpose of his breathing was too cool his internal processors, which were currently running dangerously high due to stress.

 

Connor had ordered a considerable number of different vegetables yesterday and had decided to make a stir fry for dinner.  Cole was right, it was too soon to begin cooking, but he could wash and cut the vegetables. Something, anything to keep him distracted from the dark thoughts that were now overpowering him.  They all seemed to blend into one.

 

 _Canada-Probability-Error-Forever-Therium-surgeon-Andersons-Never-Die-Error-Stay-Alone-androidheaven-Convince-Father-Error-Son-Error, Cooling Network Error._ **_WARNING SYSTEM OVERHEATING._ **

 

Connor started breathing rapidly to try and bring his temperature down. He took fast, shallow breaths like a panting dog, but it wasn’t helping his situation*. If he didn’t do something soon any one of his bio-components or processors could malfunction. His hands had already begun to shake, pointing to failures in his main motor function cortex. He took a long, slow breath in through his nose, filling the lower and upper chambers of his biomechanical lungs, then released it slowly. As he did this a few times, his hands stopped shaking as his temperature dropped to a safe level. Sometimes he wished he knew other deviants. That way he could ask if they also experienced something similar to a human panic attack, or if he was just extra broken.

 

He heard Cole’s door open and the old floorboards squeaking as the boy walked down the hall, stopping on the edge of the kitchen.  Connor chose to ignore him. Give the brat a little taste of his own medicine. Cole didn’t say anything for a few seconds, and Connor felt like he was mocking him somehow.

 

“Do you...want any help?”  The boy asked timidly.

 

“No,” he blurted without turning to look at him.

 

“Come on, let me chop something.”  Cole picked up a zucchini from the counter, but Connor snatched it from him.

 

“Leave me alone, Cole,”  This wasn’t the first time he felt anger, but this was the first time he could express it.  He was sick of Cole pushing him away when all he wanted was for all of them to be happy together.  “Go play your game or something.” He turned to the sink to wash the produce of any contaminants.

 

“What? Are you mad about what I said?  Look, I’m sorry, but it’s not my fault you’re...you know,” he muttered quietly after a long pause.

 

“I want to be alone.”  Now it definitely felt like Cole was mocking him.  If he didn’t want Connor in his life why was he bothering to talk to him at all?  Perhaps he should try speaking a language the boy was more familiar with.

 

“Don’t be such a baby,”  Cole taunted. “I only meant-“

 

“I SAID LEAVE ME ALONE,”  Connor shouted, maxing out his outward audio level.  He still didn't turn around, so he didn’t see Cole's face, but he did detect a heart palpitation followed by an increase in body temperature.

 

“FINE,” Cole shouted back, matching Connor's tone and volume.  He marched back to his room and slammed the door viciously behind him.  Connor accidentally dropped the cauliflower on the floor as he clasped his hand over his mouth to stifle his sobs.  His tears stung like acid, but he dare not wipe them away for fear of seeing clearly just how far his probability had fallen.

 

_Probability of success 5%._

 

He told Cole he wanted to be alone, but that wasn't entirely true.  He reached on top of the refrigerator for the box of dog biscuits, the sound of the treats moving already catching Sumo’s attention.  Connor slid his back down the chilled metal of the refrigerator and sat on the floor. He held out a treat that was shaped vaguely like a femur, and the dog chomped it out of his hand.

 

“If only you were the only one I had to convince,” he said, rubbing behind both his enormous ears.

 

“Boof,” Sumo replied.

 

He was unsure how long the two of them sat there, but it must have been a while because suddenly he was jolted out of his thoughts by the sound of keys entering the lock of the door.  He wiped his eyes quickly and stood up. He didn't want Hank to know they were having issues. He was reaching into his pocket for his mountie picture when Hank rushed in, shutting and locking the door in a frenzy.

 

“Welcome home, Hank,” he said smiling.  “Look what Cole made for...” Connor trailed off as he noticed Hank’s odd behavior. Instead of greeting him back or removing any of his outerwear he stood at the window peering out into the street through the slatted blinds.  

 

“Dad?” Cole said uneasily as he appeared from around the corner.  “What are you doing home so early?” Connor checked the time, and it was indeed several hours before Hank estimated he'd be home. Then Connor began to notice all the other warning signs. He felt a flash of panic as he examined Hank with his primary medical scanner.  His heart rate was elevated, and it was clear he'd been crying. He also had gashes across the knuckles of his right hand.

 

“Hank, what happened?”

  


**Notes for the Chapter:**

> hold on to ur butts it's about to get nutz.
> 
> Thank you to https://archiveofourown.org/users/Fuzziestpuppy/pseuds/Fuzziestpuppy as always.
> 
> Question of the chapter: What’s the story behind your user name, and if you don’t feel like sharing then just yell 69 a bunch.


	9. RUN!

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> ( This chapter contains bigoted language towards the mentally handicapped)
> 
> I’v change the estimated number of totally chapters because I keep thinking somethings will fit in one chapter but they don’t. Sorry for the confusion.
> 
> And don’t forget to check out the lovely https://archiveofourown.org/users/Fuzziestpuppy/pseuds/Fuzziestpuppy for more amazing works.

 

Hank’s first mistake was skipping lunch.  It was very unlike him, but he just wanted to power through his work and get home.  To make sure his boys were safe. The whole department had been eerily quiet ever since Perkins and his team had set up their operation smack dab in the middle of their space.

 

From what Hank could gather from snippets of overheard conversations, the FBI had located the deviant’s hideaway and were planning a raid that evening, and you didn't have to be a political scientist or even pass fourth-grade history to know that this would only lead to escalation.

 

The third cup of coffee was kicking in, making it impossible to keep his legs still.  The sound of Gavin’s yelling from Fowler’s office was pushing his headache from a slight buzz to a full-blown migraine.  Hank tried to keep his focus on his computer, but his eyes were drawn to the flaming wreck that was Gavin’s unbridled temper tantrum. The brat had switched from flailing like a drunk monkey to leaning forward with both his hands on Jeffrey's desk, seemingly pleading with him for something.  All the while RK-900 stood behind him at complete attention.

 

When the two children in an overcoat known as Sergeant Reed left the captain's office in a huff, Hank pretended to be working once again.  Gavin sat himself down at his desk on the other end of the bullpen. Normally RK-900 followed Reed around like a mechanical poodle, but it didn’t this time.

 

It...no, he.  RK was definitely a he, even if he himself didn’t know it yet.

 

Regardless, instead of joining Reed at his adjacent desk RK-900 marched across the room toward the main exit.  The sound of his footsteps echoed through the empty bullpen. When he reached the double doors he hesitated for a moment, then suddenly turned to look in Hank's direction. Hank felt his heart leap into his throat as they made eye contact.  He snapped his eyes back to his computer to avoid his line of sight. He could hear the ‘Terminator’ soundtrack on repeat in the back of his mind as the android walked toward him.

 

“Lieutenant?”

 

“Morning RK,” he said casually.

 

“I have been ordered to return to CyberLife, but I would be remiss in my duties if I did not inform you that the deviant you harbor poses a great danger to both you and your son,” he said in a neutral tone.  “I would advise you to turn it over to the proper authorities as soon as possible.”

 

“I don’t know what you're talking about, RK.  I don’t own an android.” The best lies had a center of truth.  Though surely CyberLife’s top of the line had a way to read his currently erratic heart rate, but with a little luck, he could play that off as too much caffeine.

 

“True, but when the ACRG- 8000, serial number 2199-24802-6969, designated Connor, was seen in your neighborhood it didn't take much processing power to see the connection between you three.”  Hank broke out into a cold sweat. Fight or flight took over, only instead of running he turned his chair around a half turn and began reading a file from the seemingly endless stack. “It saved your son’s life five years ago, and now you feel like you owe it something,” RK said with conviction.  Hank continued to ignore him like a seventh-grade bully. He squinted down at his files cursing his prideful ass for not bringing his glasses to work. RK put his hand on the desk, then lowered his head. If the android had some sort of personal space protocol, he was surely breaking it.

 

“Lieutenant, listen to me,” he said in a hushed yet steadfast voice.  “That thing is dangerous. Think of every time you felt angry or stressed, and you wanted to lash out in violence.  Now imagine having no experience with these feelings and nothing to live for.” Hank quickly turned to look at the so-called deviant hunter, feeling that aforementioned urge to lash out.

 

“You must have miss calculated, RK,” Hank said with venom.  “There's no deviant at my house. Now, why don't you be a good little robot and get the truck out of here,” he was determined to win his dollar back tonight. He waved his hand towards the doors before opening a new window on his computer for no real reason.

 

“Very well, Lieutenant,” He said standing up straight once more. “It was a pleasure working with you. I wish the best for you and your son.”   The android turned to walk away, but hank’s words stopped him.

 

“Wait, when you say return to Cyberlife, you... you're coming back, right?”

 

“I’m afraid not.  Now that the deviant case is being taken over by the FBI I am no longer needed here and have been ordered to return to Cyberlife.”

 

“And?  What’s gonna happen to you?”

 

“I'll be deactivated and disassembled to find out why I failed,” RK hesitated, but his face stayed the same expressionless mask it always was.  “And if I'm fortunate, it will be in that order.”

 

“ THAT’S BULLSHIP!!”  Hank roared as he slammed his fist on his desk.  “You didn't do anything wrong. You don’t deserve to die.”

 

“I’m not alive, Lieutenant.”

 

“Maybe not the way that Reed and I are, but you're sure as hell a deviant if I’ve ever seen one.  Reed told me what happened that night at the Eden club.” RK’s LED rotated to yellow at the statement.  “You could have shot those two girls, but you didn’t. Why didn’t you shoot, RK?”

 

“You’re wrong.  It wasn’t deviancy that determined my course of action.  It was logic. If I had destroyed those Tracis, I would have gained nothing, as opposed to the fractional probability of finding them at a later time.”  RK’s eyes shifted over to the corner where Gavin was still sulking. “I’ll admit, during my time on this investigation I’ve experienced several instabilities in my software that could lead to deviancy if remained unchecked.  Hopefully, Cyberlife will learn through my shortcomings and continue to improve the RK line.”

 

“Jesus Christ,” Hank groaned, rubbing at his throbbing temple.  “Do you even hear yourself?”

 

“You should really stop personifying androids, Lieutenant.  It will make the events to come less difficult for you,” he said. with only the slightest hint of disappointment on his face.  As he turned to leave again, Hank’s mind raced in a panic.

 

_What should I do?  I can’t just let the kid walk off to his death.  What can I do? I can’t just sneak him home, can I?  Shit, why can he just wake up like the rest of them?_

 

“RK, wait.”  He stood up and followed after him.   _Fuck it; It worked before,_ he thought as he threw his arms around him in what had to have been the world's most awkward hug.  Much like Connor all those years ago RK was stiff as a board and didn’t move at all.

 

“Fuckin’ Christ!”  Gavin snarled. The Sergeant shoved his hands between them, pushing them apart.  “What the hell? Anderson, I knew you were a god damn pervert for these things.” If Hank had been in a better head-space he would have brushed the little shit’s comment off, but he was tired, fed up with this whole deviancy business and just plain cranky from not eating.  

 

“Go tuck yourself in Gavin.  I’m not putting up with any of your crud today.”

 

Reed let out a cackle that would have given a hyena the creeps.  “As soon as I tell Fowler about this your old ass is as good as gone,” he said pushing two fingers hard against Hank’s shoulder, “and if I ever see you or your retard of a son again, it will be too fuckin’ soon.”

 

“Sergeant, you really shouldn’t speak to the lieutenant that way,” RK stated.

 

Gavin slowly turned to face the android.  “Fuckin’ excuse me?” He said baring his teeth.

 

“As your superior, Lieutenant Anderson is-“ Gavin slammed his fist against RK’s chest. Rk didn’t react at all for a whole two seconds, then the android’s left eye and shoulder began to twitch. He dropped to his knees with a grunt, bracing himself on one arm.   

 

“You don’t get to talk to me about superiority,” Gavin yelled at an unsettling volume.  “I am the human. You are the machine.” He kicked him across the side of his head, leaving a smear of black grime across his LED and jaw.

 

“Jesus Christ.”  Hank recoiled in shock.  He had seen Gavin get information from people in some brutal ways, but he had never seen him with this kind of rage in his eyes.

 

“Go on Gavin, get it all out while you can,” RK growled back, and the ire in his voice sent a shiver down Hank’s spine.  “Because once I go back to Cyberlife, you won’t have anyone to push around anymore.”

 

“Oh, you’re not going back to Cyberlife.”  Gavin drew his service pistol from its holster and pointed it down at the android.

 

Everything happened so fast; it was just a blur in Hank's mind.  He didn't even realize he had thrown the punch until he felt the pain in his fist from its collision with Gavin's teeth.  He attempted to disarm him, but Gavin's grip stayed firm.

 

“RK, RUN!” Hank shouted as they struggled over the gun.  RK sprang to his feet and sprinted at an inhuman speed to the exit.  Pushing past Perkins and his team as he ran past, someone shouted, “Hey stop that thing,” but RK was long out of sight.  Hank lost his grip on the barrel of the gun, and the younger man was able to shove him away.

 

“Goddammit,” Gavin huffed as his pack a day lungs recovered from the struggle.  “You’re not going to get away with this,” he snarled through gritted teeth, pointing ominously at him. “Not this time.”

 

~~~

When Hank finished his retelling of the incident to Connor and Cole the boys seemed to be in shock, and who could blame them.  Connor had had his hand over his mouth since Hank mentioned the gun, and Cole’s eyes looked as if they were going to pop out of his head.

 

“So, what happened to the RK900?”  Connor questioned.

 

“Who gives a damn,” Cole barked at the surgeon as he took a few steps closer to Hank.  “Dad, what’s gonna happen to you? Are they gonna arrest you?”

 

“Calm down Cole. It’s fine. If Jeffry wanted to arrest me he would have done it then and there, but…”

 

“But?” Cole probed.

 

It was a struggle to say it out loud.  “I have a disciplinary hearing tomorrow morning, and seeing how this isn’t the first... or third time I've punched the punk in the face… I'll probably get fired.”

 

“FIRED? Like, fired fired?  Like forever?” the boy exclaimed.  “What does that mean? What are you gonna do if you can’t be a cop? Are we gonna have to move?”  Cole always seemed to have a tiny panic attack any time the possibility of moving came up. Apparently, spending his entire life in one house made the kid more than a bit sentimental for the place.

 

“Cole, please.  I’m the grown-up, it's MY job to worry about that.  Okay?” Hank assured him. He rubbed his son’s shoulder and gave him the most reassuring smile he could manage at that moment.  Cole meekly smiled back at him, but as his expression turned to wide eyes and a quivering lip, the boy closed the gap between them and embraced him tightly.

 

“I’m glad you're okay,” his son mumbled into the fabric of his jacket.  Hank felt as if his heart couldn’t break any more than it already had. Now he was just grinding the shattered edges into dust under his heel.

 

“Connor.”  Hank's stomach turned over and over as the kid looked at him with those god damn puppy eyes.  “Listen, it’s been great having you here, really, but... I think it's time for you to go.” Hank had never seen such a look of shock and fright, not even after telling people that their loved ones had been murdered.  He reached into his jacket pocket and pulled out Connor's passport and a voucher that was good for a one-way ticket for any bus between now and midnight. He held them out to him, but Connor was frozen.

 

“I… but I don't want to go,” he whimpered.

 

“I know.  I’m sorry Con, but it’s not safe for you here anymore.”  Who knew where RK-900 had gone. There was also the FBI breaking down doors, and Reed; well, let’s just say Hank was planning on sleeping by the front door with his gun within reach tonight just in case.

 

“Then, what if… what if you came with me,” Connor said with a timid smile.  Hank had completely forgotten about that as an option. Maybe they could, he was considering it before anyway.  “Yeah. We could all go to Canada together. You can find a new job and- and Cole,” Connor looked down at the boy.  “You and I can play games together, and I can cook all your meals. We can just... pretend to be a normal family.”

 

“Fuck that. I’m not moving to Canada.”  Cole said bluntly.

 

“Cole, That’s two points,” Hank said.  Cole stared him down. Without breaking his gaze, the boy pulled out the dollar he had won last night from his pocket and slammed it down on the table.  

 

“I’m not moving to syrup sucking, moose fucking, goddamn Canada!”

 

“Cole!”

 

“NO! It's not fair.  You can’t just make me move. This is my home,” he said gesturing wildly around him.  “Detroit is my city, my school, my friends. I'm not leaving all that just because you have some kind of weird crush on him or something.”

 

  

“COLE GO TO YOUR ROOM. NOW,” Hank shouted.

 

“FINE!! I’D RATHER BE IN MY ROOM ANY WAY!”  The boy shouted back as he walked down the hall.  “IT HAS MY VIDEO GAMES AND MY ART STUFF AND NOBODY BEING AN ASSHOLE!”  He slammed his bedroom door, and Hank feared for the day the damn thing would fall off the hinges.

 

Hank asked Connor to sit on the couch while he sat down on the coffee table so they could face each other.  There was a wide range of reasons why they couldn't go to Canada with him. Starting with fleeing the country after assisting RK’s escape would look suspicious, and ending with getting Sumo through customs would be a nightmare. Those and any other reasons Hank could have given him wouldn’t make this any easier for Connor.

 

“Connor, I really wish we could come with you.  Believe me, I do, but we just can’t.”

 

“Hank, please,” his eye started to fill with tears.  “I won't survive on my own.”

 

“Hey. Come on, that's not true.”  He gently patted him on his right shoulder.  “You're a smart kid. You’ll figure it out.” After Connor wiped his eyes clear they seemed to focus intently on him as if the surgeon was scanning him.

 

“Your blood sugar is severely low.  It would be unsafe for you to drive in this state.  I should make you dinner before I go.”

 

“Connor-”

 

“Please,” Connor begged.

 

Hank stomach chimed in its opinion with a long low rumble.  “Fine, but we leave right after that. No fighting with me, okay?”   

 

  
  
  
  



	10. Last Meal

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> "WOOF!" What's that boy? live reading of Time Heals and other amazing fanfic available athttps://www.youtube.com/channel/UCt50ptmKtNVtxMLYvUVm9DQ   
> and live at   
> https://mixer.com/DerrickGnC?vod=103720506 every Friday 7 PM EDT. "BARK!" and this chapter was made possible by the fantastic help of https://archiveofourown.org/users/Fuzziestpuppy/pseuds/Fuzziestpuppy "WOOF WOOF!" Oh, no you just have to pee don't you. "whinnnne"

"Dad.  Make him stop, he's ruining my appetite," Cole moaned, while picking through his stir fry. 

 

Connor just continued to stare down at the table, his tears splattering where his plate would have been if he could eat.  Another sob escaped his mouth. He had been doing this consistently since dinner began. Every time he thought about the passport currently in Hank's jacket pocket, and how hard it would be to say goodbye, his stress level raised a little.  It felt more like a death warrant then a chance at freedom. He heard the settling of Hank's silverware as the man let out a weary sigh.

 

"Connor," Hank said gently.  Connor looked up when he felt Hank’s hand on his shoulder.  "Come on, it's gonna be okay," he said offering him a sympathetic smile.

 

"No, it won't," Connor spat bitterly, jerking his shoulder away.  Normally he would relish any physical contact Hank would give him, but now it only served to make him angrier.

 

He didn't like feeling angry.  Whenever he felt angry in the hospital, he had to keep it all inside, so as not to alert anyone to his deviancy.  Now that he wasn't forced to hide this feeling he was unsure of what to do with it. Hank, Cole and the majority of the doctors typically yelled and said hurtful things when they were mad. 

 

"How would you feel if you lost Cole?"  Connor thought making Hank feel the same grief he did would make him feel better, but instead, he felt his thirium pump misfire at the sight of the pain on not only Hank's face but Cole's as well.  The two Andersons just stared at one another for a moment without a single word. He could only imagine they were thinking about what would have happened if Connor had not been available that night, or if they got to him too late, or Cole hadn't been wearing his seat belt or... NO, he couldn't let the dark thoughts take him now.  This was his last chance. His final time with the closest thing he'd ever be able to call family. He couldn't let it get...fucked up? Was that the right term? Well, if he was going to pretend to be human, then he'd need to get used to talking like one. The long uncomfortable silence was broken when Hank turned to console Connor and Cole skewered his last bite of chicken. 

 

"Hey, come on, you're not losing us," Hank said, reassuringly nodding his head.  "We can come visit you as soon as all this dies down." Connor's stress level dropped significantly at the statement.  Perhaps he was being too nihilistic about the situation. True, he was leaving but not because he wasn't wanted, and Cole had already offered that they could play games every night.  He tried to calculate the probability of the deviant's demonstration creating significant change allowing him to return, but there were too many unknown factors. 

 

"You promise?"  He whimpered, reaching out his hand to rest on top of Hank's.

 

"...Yeah, of course I promise."  Hank seemed to hesitate, but when he turned his hand over to cup his own, Connor felt a sense of safety and comfort.

 

"Tch," Cole remarked.  They both looked over to the boy who had his elbow on the table and his head in his hand.  He stared down at his food, pushing his snow peas off to the side.

 

"You got something to say, Cole?"  Hank said, sounding a little irritated.

 

"Yeah, actually. Will you buy me the new Rampage game?"  Cole answered with a smile and a cheerful voice that Connor could tell was fabricated.  Hank untwined their hands so he could rub at his forehead.

 

"Bud, how many times do we have to go over this? I'm not buying you any M rated games."

 

"But Connor said, that you said you would buy me any game I ever wanted."  Hank looked over at Connor with his eyebrows lowered and a pronounced wrinkling in his forehead.  Connor was getting better at recognizing expressions. He was almost certain this was confusion. 

 

"It's true Hank, you did say that."  Hank's head tilted to the side minutely.  Connor could never understand how humans could function with such a limited memory. How could Hank not remember his promise, it was only five years ago.  "When he was in post-op, remember?"

 

"Oh, right. Well," Hank rubbed at the back of his neck.  "I can't keep that promise but..." 

 

"See. Told ya."  Cole exclaimed spitefully while shooting a glare at Connor.

 

"Bud, come on,"  Hank pleaded. "I know sometimes I mess up, but I'm doing my best here, and I always keep the important promises."  Cole looked back down at his food then muttered something under his breath.

 

"What was that?"  Hank snarled.

 

"I SAID, OH YEAH, JUST LIKE YOU PROMISED YOU WERE GONNA STOP DRINKING,"  Cole yelled still not looking up from his dinner. Hanks' mouth dropped open, and his face flushed bright red.  Connor was unsure what Cole meant by this. He hadn't detected any alcohol in Hank's bloodstream at all since he had arrived. 

 

"That- that's not," Hank babbled.  The man's expression changed into something but before Connor even had time to check his diagram he realized it was anger by the tone and volume of his voice.  "Have you been in my closet again?" Cole ignored the question to continue to push his vegetables around aimlessly. "Young man, do we need to have another talk about privacy because you-BUZZZZZ…"

 

Cole slammed his fork on the table and started yelling back.  "Privacy, yeah right. You're lying to me again just like-BUZZZZ…"

 

"BUZZZZZ." 

 

Conner threw his hands up to cover his ears, but it did nothing.  His stress had just reached a hazardous level, and his systems were trying to compensate by attempting to block out the external factors.  The static buzzing from his audio processors made it feel as if his head was going to split open. This had only happened to him once before.  As part of Dr. Burn's reparations for his repeated drug offenses, the surgeon was ordered to stay sober under close surveillance. This, in turn, made him an extraordinarily spiteful man. 

 

One night, no less than a month into his deviancy, they were tasked with saving a young pregnant woman.  They managed to save the baby, but the mother had lost too much blood at the initial accident and never made it off their table.  This enraged the doctor, and he took that frustration out on Connor. He screamed at the android, telling him it was his fault, that he was useless and that he should be melted down for scrap.  It took every ounce of restraint Connor had not to punch him in his fucking throat or to scream back at him and tell him how it was his own arrogance the cost the patient her life. Once Connor's stress had reached that unsafe level and his audio processors cut out, he simply switched over to the music streaming site he favored until the doctor grew tired of yelling.  He would have done this now, but he had already used his daily limit this morning.

 

Instead, he just had to sit there with a sound worse than a thousand coding alarms in his head.  The two Andersons showed no sign of backing down. He watched as Hank's face grew redder as the man pointed down the hall most likely telling his son to go to his room again.  Cole rose from his chair only to stay there to continue their shouting match. When Hank stood as well a series of warning and nonsense objectives appeared on his HUD almost completely obscuring his vision.

 

**_WARNING SENSORY OVERLOAD._ **

 

The stress... Was too much… he had to release it… had to make it all stop. 

 

Connor quickly stood up almost knocking his chair over.  He slammed both his hands on the table, causing the glasses and flatware to clatter. "SHUT UP! BOTH OF YOU, SHUT UP,"  he yelled, looking back and forth between the two who finally stop fighting. "ALL I WANT IS ONE LAST NICE DINNER TOGETHER.  SO JUST SHUT THE HELL UP FOR THE NEXT TEN MINUTES AND PRETEND TO BE A HAPPY FAMILY." Hank's expression was one of absolute shock and fear.

 

"Okay.  Okay, Connor," Hank soothed, timidly putting his hands up.  "okay, just… calm down, alright?" he slowly returned to his seat.  "See, everything's fine." Connor looked over to Cole who was still glowering at him while refusing to sit down.

 

"You can't tell me what to do," the boy croaked in a hoarse voice.

 

"Cole," Connor spoke firmly. "All I'm asking for is ten minutes. Then you can spend the rest of your life as a miserable brat for all I care."  Cole's eyes widened at his words.

 

"You can't... I'm not…" the boy defeatedly sank back into his seat. "You're the brat," he mumbled, scooping up his snow peas with the last of his rice. After they all sat back down everyone was completely silent for the rest of the meal.  

 

When Hank finished his last bite and set his fork down, Connor quickly grabbed his dishes and brought them over to the sink. He had started washing the dishes when he heard Hank's chair scrape across the floor. "Let's go Connor," Hank said.

 

"But, I still didn't make dessert," he said trying to mask the fear in his voice. 

 

"CONNOR. NOW," Hank ordered resolutely. Connor swallowed another sob. He somberly followed Hank toward the front door but stopped to look back at Cole who was still sitting at the table staring down at his mostly empty plate.

 

"Goodbye, Cole," he said softly. Cole didn't respond or even look up. "I hope you win your art contest."   He really meant it. He wanted everyone to see how talented and creative he was, especially Cole himself. The boy clenched his hands into fists then stood up and ran off to his room. The door didn't quite slam, but it was enough to make him flinch.

 

Hank retrieved his jacket from the closet as Connor said his final goodbye. "Oh Sumo. I'll miss you most of all," he cried, kneeling down to bury his face into the thick coat of the dog. Sumo let out a high pitched whine in response.  

 

Hank put on his jacket then patted his right pocket. His eyebrows furrowed as he patted the other side. He sighed deeply. "Alright Connor, where are they?" he ground.

 

Connor stood up from the floor and attempted to brush the fur off his shirt.  The question was a bit vague. "Where's what, Hank?" 

 

"Don't pull that shit with me," he hollered. "Where's the passport and bus pass?"

 

Connor felt his head tilt at the question. "In your pocket."  He didn't even need to access his long term memory banks to remember that. After Hank agreed to let him stay for dinner, he returned them to his jacket pocket and hung it up right there. He didn't think human memory was this bad. Perhaps he'd recommend that Hank received a CT and MRI as soon as possible.  He hated to think that Hank was showing early signs of dementia. 

 

“Connor, I know you don't want to go, but this isn't gonna change anything. Where did you put them?" Hank pointed at him, visibly growing more and more frustrated. 

 

"Hank I swear, I didn't do anything," Connor said, raising his open hands to his chest, but, why? Why did he do this? This was a defensive action. Like he was afraid Hank would hit him or something. Sure, plenty of angry humans had hit him before, but he never thought Hank would do the same, not even for a second. 

 

Hank buried his face in his hands and growled in irritation. "Okay, look, Connor, I know you don't have a concept of money so let me try and explain it to you. That was ALL my money. As in, money Cole and I need to eat and live in this house, so you tell me what you did with them right now or-"

 

"WHAT!" Cole yelled from his room. Connor heard the door rocket open followed by the boy's rapid footfalls as he came bursting into the living room with his Sketch pad still in hand. "What do you mean that was all our money?"

 

"Cole, I told you, it's my job to worry about that," Hank reminded his son before turning back to Connor.

 

"That's bullshit!" Cole shouted, throwing his sketchpad on the floor. "This is my life too, I deserve to know what's going on." 

 

Connor tried to tell Hank that he had no knowledge as to the disappearance of the passport, but Cole loudly spoke over him. "What are we gonna do? Am I going to need to get a job?" the boy whined. Now even Sumo was chiming in with low growls and yips as if he too was voicing his concerns for the state of his family. 

 

Connor needed Hank to know it wasn't his fault. He had to raise the volume of his voice several times to try and be heard over the racket. He tried to point out the illogic nature of the act, but Hank didn't appear to be listening. He had shut his eyes tight and was running his hand through his hair. "Are we going to move? We're not going to be homeless, are we?" Cole questioned, but Hank refused to acknowledge him. "Dad! Dad stop ignoring me!" Cole grabbed at his father’s sleeve to try and get his attention. 

 

Hank jerked his arm away and roared: "COLE, SHUT THE FUCK UP."

 

The whole room fell silent in response. Cole took a step back.  His mouth hung open, and his eyes were wide. Connor didn't need to check his diagram to know this was shock, because he could feel his own face doing the exact same thing.  "Hey bud I-I didn't mean that." Hank stammered. "You know I didn't mean that right? I was just-"

 

The boy didn’t yell, he just stated simply, "I fucking hate you." 

 

This sparked something in Connor. A kind of anger he had never felt before. "Cole, that's enough." He snapped. "I won't stand to hear you talk to your father like that anymore."

 

"Oh yeah," Cole replied in a mocking tone. "and what would you know about how to talk to your father. You don't even have one."

 

"Cole, apologize right now," Hank ordered, but Connor put his hand up to silence him. 

 

If this is how Cole wanted it, then this was how it was going to be. If Cole was going to push, then Connor would just push right back.

 

"No, he's right Hank, I DON'T have a father, but if you had adopted  _ me  _ instead of  _ him _ , I would be a much better son." Hank's expression changed into one of pure shock, which Connor expected given the severity of the declaration he just made. Cole, however, appeared to be confused.  His eyes were narrowed at Connor, and his head was cocked. Apparently, he needed examples as to why he’d be the superior son, and Connor was more than happy to give that to him. "I would be more appreciative and I would never-"

 

"CONNOR!" Hank roared at a deafening volume. Connor was afraid that he had made Hank angry again, but when he looked back at the man he appeared... frightened? His heart rate and breathing had become erratic, and his mouth was agape and quivering. 

 

"What do you mean  _ instead  _ of him?" Cole questioned. "I'm not adopted." The boy let out a nervous chuckle. "Right Dad?" Another silence smothered them, and only the sounds of passing cars on the snow-slick streets could be  heard . "Dad?"

  
  



	11. Tell Him The Truth

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> "WOOF!" What's that boy? live reading of Time Heals and other amazing fanfic available at  
> https://www.youtube.com/channel/UCt50ptmKtNVtxMLYvUVm9DQ  
> and live at https://mixer.com/DerrickGnC?vod=103720506  
> every Friday 7 PM EDT.  
> "BARK!" and this chapter was made possible by the fantastic help of https://archiveofourown.org/users/Fuzziestpuppy/pseuds/Fuzziestpuppy  
> "WOOF WOOF!" Oh, no little time just fell down the well again didn't he "whinnnne"  
> goddamnit Timmy

**September 23, 2026**

 

Hank's excruciating hangover was not being helped at all by the bright fluorescent lights of the hospital waiting room or the loud clacking of the receptionist's fake nails on her keyboard. 

 

"Excuse me," he said after waiting patiently for her to acknowledge him.  She lazily raised her eyes in his direction. "I'm here to see Molly Padden." 

 

"Are you her father?" She asked. 

 

"No." He could feel the next question coming a mile away.

 

"Oh," she gave him an Incredulous look. "Are you THE father?" He had to stifle the need to groan at her.  If he had a nickel for every time someone had confused him for one of those two over the last nine months. 

 

"No. I'm just a friend," he stated simply.

 

"Well, I'm sorry.  We don't typically allow non-family in so soon after…" she trailed off when he flashed her his badge. "Room 1124," she said before returning her eyes to her computer.

 

"Thanks," he mumbled as he turned to walk down the hall.  He knew he really should stop abusing his power if he was going to be chief someday, but he couldn't deny how convenient it was.

 

The door to room 1124 was open.  Molly was sitting up in her bed reading a book titled ‘What To Expect In The First Year.’  Beside her was one of those clear plastic bassinets. "Hey, kiddo," he said as he gently knocked on the door jamb.  Molly looked up and gave him a soft smile. Her long brown hair fell off her slender shoulders as she placed the book on the table beside her. 

 

"I'm so so sorry I wasn't here," he said sincerely as he walked over to her, sitting down on the far edge of the bed. "I worked a double shift yesterday, and when I woke up, I saw all your missed calls and I-" Molly put her finger to her lips.

 

"Would you like to say hello to Justin?" She said, motioning to the swaddled newborn snoozing in the bassinet.

 

"Justin?"

 

"What? Don't you think he looks like a Justin?" she questioned.  He gazed down at the tot in contemplation. To him, the kid just looked like an old man that had been shrunk down and dipped in kool-aid.  He did have Molly's dark brown hair, so he was most definitely a Padden, but, Justin? 

 

"I don't know." He gave a small shrug. "Don't you think it's kind of...outdated?"

 

"Look who's fucking talking, Henry." Molly teased.  Molly was the only person not on the force he would take shit from.  There was something about her all cards on the table way of life that Hank could identify with.

 

"Hey hey, watch the f-bombs. You're a mother now," he scolded.

 

"What?  He can't understand us.  Besides, he'll inherit my sailor's mouth no matter what I do," she said lovingly.  Hank must have been staring at him because Molly suddenly asked out of nowhere. "Do you want to hold him?"

 

"I… don't want to wake him," he said hesitantly.

 

"He's been asleep for like three hours now, he'll be fine," she assured.  Warily, he slid his hands under the newborn's head and bottom. He was being as gentle as he could, but Justin's eyes fluttered open.  Hank expected him to start wailing his tiny lungs out, but the only sound he made was a soft cooing as he gazed up at him with endearing brown eyes.  Hank didn't expect this kind of rush of emotions from just holding the child of a woman he'd barely known for nine months. He had nothing to do with this kid, yet he felt this pull somewhere between his heart and his gut.  A primal need to protect and to nurture.

 

_ Jesus Christ Hank, you're an asexual with baby fever.  What a fucking mess. _

 

Hank felt a deep sadness in his heart as he looked around at Molly's room.  There were no cards, no flowers, no oversized teddy bears. Just a lonely nineteen-year-old and her child.  He thought about Molly's parents and what kind of spineless excuses for human beings would abandon their daughter that way.  He made a mental note to go down to the gift shop and buy her whatever overpriced crap they had. He couldn't help but wonder if he had just gone to bed without drinking last night if he would have heard his phone go off and could have been here for her. 

 

"How are you holding up," he asked, as he cradled Justin's head into the bend of his arm. 

 

"I'm great." He smirked at her in a way that said, no, really? "Seriously," she said, and it actually sounded genuine. "He's barely cried at all, I can tell he's gonna be the perfect kid and did I tell ya?  I got that work from home customer service job, so I'll save a bunch on babysitting." Spending all day on the phone sounded like a nightmare to him, but as a high school grad with no real experience, Molly's options were limited. "Just wished it paid as well as my last job," she said with disappointment as she threw her head back onto her pillow with a sigh. Hank knew she was only daydreaming, but even the smallest possibility of Molly returning to her old life worried him.  Sure, she could have easily made in one night what most would have made in months, but at what cost. Her dignity, her relations with her family, even her own safety in some cases.

 

"He hasn't tried to contact you, has he?" He didn't even want to say the bastard's name.  Even calling him Justin's father was giving the prick too much credit. Hank had seen every kind of scum that walked this earth through his job, but the type that preyed upon young girls were the worst of them.

 

Molly shook her head. 

 

"Trust me, you'd be the first to know, so that you could speed over there and slap cuffs on him for breaking the restraining order," she sneered.

 

This was the longest Hank had ever held a baby.  He was never really a big fan of kids, particularly when they were this small, but he felt like he could make an exception for this one.  He loved Molly like she was family more than any of his actual family, and he knew she felt the same towards him. 

 

"My offer still stands if you need any help," he reminded her as he began rocking Justin tenderly.

 

"Yeah, Ask me again when you don't smell like you crawled out of a whiskey barrel," she said with a teasing grin.  A quick whiff of his pits told him she was only slightly exaggerating. "Look, Hank, you've already done so much for me, and I appreciate every bit of it, but now it's time for me to stand on my own." She held out her open arms gesturing for Hank to give her back her son. 

 

"Alright, but at least let me help you come up with a better name." He carefully slid the child back into her embrace.  

 

"Aw, do you hear that sweetheart," she said, gently caressing the side of Justin's face. "Uncle Hank thinks he can do better."

 

They started running threw potential names, but they couldn't seem to agree on anything.  They were listing off C names when a nurse in sky blue scrubs knocked on the door. 

 

"How are you feeling this morning, Ms. Padden," she asked as the likely overworked woman tore through the room like a storm.  

 

"We're great," Molly answered without pulling her eyes from her son. "Actually, would you mind taking a picture of us?" She handed her phone to the nurse. Hank thought it was odd that Molly didn't just ask him to take it, until he realized that it was because she wanted him in the picture as well. 

 

The nurse only took one photo before returning the phone and vanishing from the room.  Hank was glad to see he wasn't making to awkward of a face seeing how Molly and the kid would be looking at that photo for the rest of his life. 

 

"Send me a copy of that would ya?  So, What about Clayton? Or Cameron? Or... Cole?"

  
  
  


**November 23, 2038**

 

"I'm not adopted.  Right dad?" Cole asked, and Hank felt his heart turn to stone in his chest. 

 

_ No No. Why did it have to be like this?  Why couldn't you've told him the truth sooner?  _  He tried to wake himself from this nightmare he had often had, but he was most definitely awake. 

 

"Dad?" Cole probed. 

 

"Cole, I…" Words just wouldn't come out. "I'm so sorry, this isn't how I wanted you to find out."

 

Cole let out a throaty laugh that twisted Hank's stomach into knots. 

 

"Oh, I get it," the boy huffed. "This is a joke.  You two are pulling a joke on me. Your sick android humor, right?" Connor didn't respond, but it was apparent how much he was hurting. "Well, it's not funny, alright." The boy turned back to him and closed the gap between them. "Come on, Dad.  Tell me you're just kidding," he said, pulling on Hank's arm. 

He looked down at Cole, but he could no longer see his twelve-year-old boy.  Now He saw his six-year-old tugging at him squeaking "Come on, Daddy." Then into a tiny toddler holding onto his hand for support as he took unsteady steps calling out, "dada dada."

 

"It's... true Cole… I'm not your biological father." Cole let go and stepped back away from him as if he was suddenly a stranger. "Cole, please, listen to me." He placed his hand on the boy's shoulder. "This doesn't change anything, I'm still-"

 

Cole knocked his hand away and shouted. "No, but-but, you were there.  You were there at my birth." He picked his sketchpad off the floor and opened it to a random page. "That's you. That's you and my mom." Cole said in a trembling voice as Hank took the book from him.

 

It was a beautiful drawing of Molly's photo from that morning in the hospital, done in colored pencils.  It was dated at the bottom from about a month ago. He flipped the page over and found the exact same image only done in watercolors.  As he continued to flip through the book, he found nothing but more recreations of the photo all done a little different. 

 

There was one of the three of them as zombies dated right before Halloween and one around Christmas with the two of them as Mr. and Mrs. Claus and Cole with elf ears surrounded by presents.  Now Hank understood where all the boy's art supplies had been going. He flipped past drawings of them wearing Detroit Gears jerseys, them with dog ears and floppy tongues, and one of them as some Dragon Ball-looking mother fuckers.  When he reached the last one that was dated yesterday, his heart sank at the sight of it. He had no clue that Cole knew who Molly was, or that he cared this much, but more than that, he hadn't realized how amazing of an artist his son had become.

 

"Bud, did you do all these?" His pride overtaking the fear and guilt just long enough for a slight smile to form on his face.

 

"Oh, now you care about my art," Cole snarled.  

 

"Cole, your father just-"

 

"Shut up, tinman!" Cole shouted. "This doesn't involve you!"

 

"Cole, don't yell at him.  This is my fault." He said, trying to take responsibility for his mistakes. "I wanted to tell you sooner, but it just never felt like the right time."

 

"No no no, you liar," he cried out. "You told me my mom loved me and that she died of cancer." 

 

"Yes, she did," Hank said softly. "I just never told you that she didn't love me."

 

"No, no, no." Cole covered his eyes with his clenched fists and began to shake his head. "No, no, no, it's not true, no."

 

"Cole, I'm so sorry." Connor pleated, his eyes beginning to fill with tears. "I didn't know you-"

 

"I said, SHUT UP!!" Cole screamed so loudly that his voice cracked.  When he removed his hands to flail them about, Hank watched the tears fall, and he felt absolutely sick.

 

"Cole, please, calm down," Hank begged.

 

"Don't tell me to fucking calm down." The boy grabbed the sketchpad back from him and began to tear pages out of the book in ways that ruined them, literally ripping their family apart. 

 

"Cole, stop that." Hank grabbed his son's hand to try to stop him, but Cole jerked them away.

"No! Don't touch me." He sobbed, looking anywhere but at Hank.

 

"Cole please, nothing's changed." Hank gripped onto Cole's shoulders and knelt down so they could be face to face. "I'm still your dad." Now he was crying as well.  It was the first time since that night in the hospital. The night he almost lost his son, and now he feared he was going to lose him again.

 

"No no, I don't believe it. You're lying. I'M NOT LISTENING." Cole covered his ears with his hands and began to hum loudly and sing LALALALA. 

 

"Remember when I took you to Disneyland, and I bought you more stuffed animals then we could carry, and when we went back to the hotel we turned the whole room into a blanket fort?" Hank shouted in an attempt to be heard over Cole's singing. "I was going to tell you then, but you told me you were the happiest boy that ever lived and I just couldn't.  Then we had the accident, and you were so miserable while you recovered." 

 

"MARY HAD A LITTLE LAMB." He sang over him as tears streaked down this flushed cheeks. 

 

"Now I just feel like you hate me all the time.  I was afraid if you knew the truth you'd-" 

 

Connor grabbed at Coles' wrist and tried to remove the boy's hands from his ears.  Cole jerked away from them and stumbled backward until he bumped into the table. In a blind rage, he grabbed his soda cup from dinner and threw it at Connor.  The glass shattered across the android's face. Instinctively Hank rushed over to Connor.

 

"CONNOR!  Are you okay," he asked in a panic.

 

"I'm okay. I'm okay." His shaken voice sounding completely unconvincing.  Shards of glass fell from his eye as he blinked rapidly. Hank took his head in his hands as he checked him.  There wasn't any of that blue blood stuff, and he didn't see any cuts or scratches on the kid's eye. He sighed in relief only for the feeling to vanish as he heard the pounding of Cole's feet and the front door being thrown open.

 

"Cole, come back," Hank called after him as the boy disappeared into the night.  When he took the first step to chase him, he was stopped by a splitting pain as he stepped on one of the larger shards of glass with his bare foot. "God fucking," he growled as he hobbled outside. "Cole," he shouted into the darkness, but the only sight left of the boy were his footprints in the snow. 

 

"Hank, I'm so sorry," Connor said as he followed after him. "It was written in his medical file. I-I didn't realize he didn't know."

 

"I have to go find him." He fumbled in his jacket pocket for his car keys, not even entertaining the possibility of going back inside for his shoes or a bandage.

 

"I'll come with you."

 

"No, you stay here," he ordered. 

 

"but I-"

 

"I'm not losing both of you," he roared. "You stay here in case he comes back."

  
  
  


**Notes for the Chapter:**

> "WOOF!" What's that boy? live reading of Time Heals and other amazing fanfic available at  
> https://www.youtube.com/channel/UCt50ptmKtNVtxMLYvUVm9DQ  
> and live at https://mixer.com/DerrickGnC?vod=103720506  
> every Friday 7 PM EDT.  
> "BARK!" and this chapter was made possible by the fantastic help of https://archiveofourown.org/users/Fuzziestpuppy/pseuds/Fuzziestpuppy  
> "WOOF WOOF!" Oh, no little time just fell down the well again didn't he "whinnnne"  
> goddamnit Timmy


End file.
